


Keep The Tail Wagging

by Tiofrean



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: (Kinda....), Almost Disney-like Meet Cute, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Alternative Universe - Shane is a Dog, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author is comma happy, Barn Scene Rewritten, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, But Not Much, Daryl And Rick Love Them Too, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Object Insertion, Pet Shop Owner!Daryl, Sex Toys, Shane Is Really a Dog, Shane is a BAMF, Smut, Sophia Loves Unicorns Okay?, The Author Regrets Nothing, a touch of angst, cop!Rick, idek how to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:39:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiofrean/pseuds/Tiofrean
Summary: When Rick's four-legged partner Shane is injured while on duty, Rick decides to take the retired police dog home with him. During his visit in the local pet shop, he meets the owner - a man named Daryl, with a big heart for animals, and an even bigger heart for Rick. When they start getting together, Shane is unexpectedly taken out of his retirement and asked to serve his country one more time. Can they all make it?(Happy AU guys, no barking mad doggos in here!)





	Keep The Tail Wagging

**Author's Note:**

> What have I written? 
> 
> Guys! Ladies! Unicorns! Frogs and all other creatures! I present you a "Shane is a police dog" AU that had its beginnings many many months (if not years!) ago. It's possible that we've started to think about it first when ArcticLucie had posted her "Till the Cows Come Home". Then, we've been paying a very close attention to how Jon Bernthal looks like (Love you, dude, if you ever read this :D), with his big, puppy-like eyes that melts all the hearts.... and puff! There was a police dog Shane running around us with the plot bunnies, and we just had to do something about it. I'm saying "we" because MermaidSheenaz had brainstormed most of this fic with me, then betaed most of it. All remaining mistakes are mine, so go bite my head off in the comments if you want ;) If you wanna say something else in the comments, rave about Shane or whatever, come and talk to me, I love talking to people. 
> 
> Shane has his own lines in this fic, and they are all WRITTEN IN CAPS AND A BIT IMPAIRED WHEN IT COMES TO GRAMMAR K? THX! (xD) 
> 
> And last, but not the least, I have the highest respect towards all of the K-9 officers around the world, as well as towards their four-legged partners. Live long and be happy, folks! We respect your hard work! <3

The bell hanging above the door rang and a sheriff walked inside. Daryl eyed him from behind the counter, taking him in from the top of his hat to the soles of his cowboy boots.   
“Mornin’,” Daryl gruffed, putting a fresh batch of fish food on the shelf next to the counter. He had been the owner of the pet shop for the last five years and he had never seen a cop walk inside like this. Usually they walk straight to him, asking questions about this or that, mostly cases related to theft or robbery… This guy was looking curiously around, his gaze skimming over the shelves and stopping briefly on the dog food section, before he walked forwards, finally settling his baby-blue eyes on Daryl.

“Hi,” the sheriff started, one hand reaching into his back pocket, taking out a scrap of paper. “I need…” he frowned, trying to read the name of whatever it was that he had written on the paper. After his fourth try he shook his head and handed the scrap over to Daryl with a resigned sigh. Daryl took it and read the name.   
“Mhm… Don’ have this ointment now, sorry.” He handed the paper back to the sheriff.   
“Damn… Hershel said you’d have it,” the guy muttered, pushing the scrap back into his pocket.   
“Nah, sold the last one yesterday, I’ll have more on Wednesday,” Daryl explained and the sheriff nodded.   
“Right…”   
“Ya may use t’is till then, though.” Daryl reached under the counter and produced a small bottle. The guy took it gingerly and started to read the label. “Not as good as t’ one ya want, but should get the job done for now.”   
“Alright.” The man nodded thoughtfully and looked around.

“Ya need anything else?”   
“A harness… and some dog food.”   
“What kinda dog we talkin’ ‘bout?” Daryl asked, walking out from behind the counter and leading the guy to the food section.   
“A German Shepherd. He’s… He’s been injured recently, I guess he’ll need something special, right?”   
“Mhm… Got somethin’ high on nutrients just for ‘im.” Daryl pointed to a big bag standing in the corner of the shop. The sheriff eyed it and nodded.   
“Okay, I’ll take it.”

Daryl bagged ten pounds of it and turned back to face the sheriff. The guy was looking at the leashes and collars hanging on the wall, his profile turned to Daryl, who couldn’t help but admire the guy’s features. A long and beautiful nose, almost aristocratic in its shape, a scruffy, chiseled jaw that gave him a hard appearance and stood totally at odds with his soft eyes and curly hair.

Daryl cleared his throat.   
“Ya said somethin’ ‘bout a harness,” he gruffed out, allowing his eyes one last slide over that gorgeous face.   
“Yeah, he needs a new one, can’t wear his usual anymore.” He reached out and grabbed one that had reflective stripes on it. “Can I try it on?” He asked, turning to look at Daryl.

Daryl couldn’t help himself and barked out a laugh.   
“Sure, the changin’ room’s in the back.” He smirked, seeing the precise moment when the sheriff realized what he had said.   
“No I… I didn’t…. I _meant_...” The guy stammered, blushing ten shades of red, but there was a smile on his face, too, so Daryl figured it was okay to drag the joke out a bit.   
“Hey, ya do what ya gotta do, man,” he drawled and the sheriff grinned at him.   
“Shane’s outside.” He pointed to the door with his thumb, and Daryl frowned.   
“Shane?”   
“My dog,” he explained, still grinning. Daryl nodded.   
“Sure.”

He walked outside with the sheriff, noticing a German Shepherd tied to a post near the shop. It jumped up excitedly and waggled its tail when they approached, giving a happy yip in greeting.

YOU BACK! I THOUGHT YOU LEFT ME FOREVER BUT NOW YOU BACK! I WAS A GOOD BOI, I WAITED! YOU BACK!

“Shane, down,” the guy commanded and the dog sat down immediately, still wagging its tail happily. The sheriff turned to Daryl. “That’s Shane, and he’s very happy to be out of hospital.”  
“I bet.” Daryl stepped closer. He could tell the dog had been through something serious going by the size of the gauze bandaged to its middle. “Can I?” He asked, reaching out with one hand. The guy nodded at him and Daryl got closer, letting Shane sniff his hand before he went for it and placed his hand gently on the dog’s head.

“Hi there,” Daryl murmured to Shane, petting him carefully and scratching just behind the dog’s ear. When he took his hand away, Shane leaned in a bit, sniffing around Daryl’s pockets, pushing his nose into the fabric of his trousers.

ANIMALS! FLOOFY ANIMALS! THEY CRUNCHY! CAN I HAVE THEM?

“Shane, behave.” The sheriff rolled his eyes and told him to sit, which he did immediately. Daryl raised an eyebrow at the guy.   
“That’s some well trained dog,” he commented, motioning to Shane.   
“Yeah. Used to be a police dog. Retired now.”   
“Retired? Seems too young for that.” Daryl frowned, looking at the animal curiously.   
“Well, that’s what you get for being shot on duty and having troubles recovering,” the man explained, and Daryl’s eyes slid back to the white gauze wrapped around the dog’s side.   
“Sorry to hear,” he mumbled, patting Shane’s head again.   
“He’s better now. But he won’t get through any medical test, so he ended up at my place. I couldn’t just leave him.” The sheriff looked fondly at the dog, and Daryl nodded.

“He seems pretty nice. Shouldn’t give ya any trouble with a police trainin’.”   
“Let’s hope so.” The guy shrugged. “Want to help me with that?” He shook the harness and Daryl agreed, explaining how to open it and get it around the bangade in a way that wouldn’t aggravate the wound underneath. Shane sat stock still through the whole presentation and fitting, and five minutes later, they were walking back into the shop. The sheriff paid for the shopping and promised to come back on Wednesday for the medicine he came here for in the first place.

Daryl went to see him out, giving Shane one last pat on the head and slipping him a treat. The sheriff laughed at that.   
“Didn’t have to do that.”   
“Well, he’s a good dog. Deserves somethin’ nice,” Daryl drawled, stepping back. “‘M Daryl, by the way.” He reached out with his hand. The man smiled at him and took it, giving it a firm squeeze.   
“I’m Rick.”

As they walked away, Daryl couldn’t help but hope the guy would become a regular in his little pet shop.

 

-&-

 

Rick couldn’t stop thinking about Daryl for the rest of the day. The guy had a certain gruffness to him that would put most people off on the first try, but the longer he had talked to him, the more he had liked him. And it was clear that Daryl loved animals, if the way his lips quirked up in a small smile every time he patted Shane on the head was any indication.

Rick looked at his dog, lying on the carpet near the coffee table. It was such a shame that Shane had been shot. He was a good dog, smart and well-trained, a good attack dog with a promising career. He had a few other talents, too, like sniffing out drugs or eating all of Rick’s dinner every time he left it unsupervised in the dining room for three minutes. But seeing as those things were only happening when Shane was in the mood, his primary job had been to keep the officers safe and look dangerous, catch a criminal every now and then, and keep them subdued until Rick could cuff them.

They had been working together for almost four years before Shane had been shot on duty, getting between a woman and a guy who tried to take her hostage. It was a miracle that he had survived the shot. Then, it had been Hershel’s veterinary clinic and two weeks of medication and now, finally, Shane had been allowed out. Rick had already decided to take him in, even before he had known whether Shane would be allowed back on duty or not. It had turned out that the wound had been too severe to let Shane stay on the force, but he was still a young dog and had at least half of his life to look forward to.

And so, Rick had brought Shane home.  

 

-&-

 

The first few days with Shane at his home weren’t easy for Rick. He had known Shane for four years, but their relationship had been as businesslike as it could get between a dog and a human. And Shane was still a police dog trained to attack people.

Granted, he had never even growled at Rick, but he wasn’t a big, cuddly plushie, either. The only person that could actually cuddle him was Rick himself. And it was officially allowed only now, when Shane was retired. Cuddling hadn’t been allowed back when Shane had still been on active duty. Those dogs were all schooled to bark and growl, to chase and bite, so nobody wanted them to go soft and show their bellies to potential criminals. Pats and verbal praise was everything that was allowed.

_Rick might have broken that particular rule a few times._

It had been irresponsible of him, but he couldn’t have helped himself when he had gazed into those big, brown, puppy-like eyes waiting for him to say he had been a _good boy._ And so, Rick had hugged Shane a few times, earning himself a lapful of a happy dog and a very enthusiastic tongue licking him all over his face. It hadn’t influenced Shane’s ability to catch the bad guys, so the captain had never found out about it.

Besides, Shane had already had quite a reputation even before Rick had taken him.

_‘If you manage to do anything useful with this pea-brained, lazy horndog, you can fucking marry him, Grimes.’_

Well, Rick _had_ managed to work successfully with Shane for four years, his captain’s words sitting at the back of his head like a faint echo, jumping forward every time they had managed to prove that Shane had been more valuable than the other dogs. After Shane’s first decoration - The Bravest Dog on The Force - Rick had half a mind to bust into his captain’s office and beam like a loon.

After the second - The Fastest Dog in Atlanta - Rick had taken up jogging to keep in tune with his four-legged partner.

After the third, Shane had started to be approached by their whole police station, petted and praised. That one was for Shane’s bravery and Rick’s quick wit, received after he had sent Shane into a burning building to get a kid out. He still didn’t know what had pushed him to do that… Admittedly, it could have been Shane’s decision - he just wouldn’t quit barking and trying to tear himself out of Rick’s grasp, until Rick had finally released him. He had watched with bated breath as Shane had disappeared in the smoky doorway. He had appeared a few moments later, dragging an unconscious girl with him by her arm. That image was forever imprinted in Rick’s brain now - one of the happiest moments of his life.

_The fourth decoration Shane had received in Hershel’s clinic._

And now he was here, lying on Rick’s couch... sprawled on it, really. One of his paws was dangling from the edge, his eyes closed, and a lazy wag to his tail. Rick huffed and went to the kitchen, trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast.

It was still early in the morning. It was Wednesday, but through some miraculous twist of fate, Rick had today off, so he could just take it easy for a few hours. He planned on having breakfast and taking Shane out for a walk - not too long, Rick didn’t want to aggravate his wound, after all. Shane was still recovering, the medicine Daryl had sold him was working well, but Rick still wanted to go and get the real deal.

“You want to eat something, Shane?” He asked on a whim, turning his head to look at the dog. Shane piped up, eyes immediately focused on Rick.

FOOD? RICK! FOOD?

Rick didn’t know whether it was that Shane actually understood the word ‘eat’, or if it was just Rick standing in the kitchen and calling his name, but Shane moved almost immediately. He crawled down from the couch - he had learned sometime during the last few days that jumping was off the table for a while for him - and padded to the kitchen. He walked calmly to Rick’s side and sniffed his legs, before he sat down and started to stroke Rick’s calf with one paw.

FOOD? RICK YOU SAY FOOD?

Rick couldn’t help but smile, seeing this. He opened the fridge and looked inside - two sausages, a piece of cheese, a bottle of milk that must have been sitting there long enough to become sentient, and a sad-looking cucumber. He shrugged, took the sausages and closed the door.   
“There you go,” he said, ripping off half of the sausage and feeding it to Shane. He took a bite of the other one, turning to the coffee maker. _He should probably do some grocery shopping…_

A paw scratched over his calf again and Rick glanced down, right into Shane’s big, puppy eyes. How did he still manage to have that look being a fully-grown, adult dog, Rick had no idea. He fed him the second half of the sausage and turned back to the coffee maker.

 

-&-

 

It turned out that the distance between his house and Daryl’s pet shop was just the thing Shane needed. His steps were light, his eyes alert, and he even barked at one squirrel they encountered in the park which they walked through. Rick watched him, feeling proud that he had managed to save such a beautiful dog from the kennel… or worse. Retired police dogs didn’t have a happy life, if they managed to have a life at all. Most of them were aggressive and too fucked up after their service to live in houses. They ended up as guard dogs or they were put down.

Rick was happy Shane had ended up with him.

“Come on, Shane!” Rick shouted in his direction, laughing when Shane immediately ran to him. “We’re gonna go and see Daryl, yeah?” He prompted and clipped Shane’s leash back to his harness. Shane wagged his tail excitedly and smiled that canine smile that never failed to make Rick grin, too. He reached out and ran his fingers just behind Shane’s ear.

“You remember Daryl?” He asked, scooting down when Shane scratched at his leg. The dog immediately leaped up, placed his front paws on Rick’s thigh and started to lick at his face.

WHERE WE GOING RICK? WE GOING TO DARYL?

“Yeah, I thought you might,” Rick laughed again and stood up. “Come on, then.” He tugged at Shane’s leash just slightly - Shane was trained well enough to follow him regardless.

They walked on, until they found themselves just outside Daryl’s little shop. The sun was shining brightly, so Rick found a shaded spot right next to the door and tied Shane’s leash to one of the posts there. He smiled warmly when he noticed a bowl of dog food and a second one full of water standing within easy reach. Shane jolted and yipped behind him, and Rick glanced at him.   
“Stay.” He commanded.

RICK! RICK I WANNA GO WITH YOU! SMALL CRUNCHY ANIMALS! RICK DON’T LEAVE ME HERE! RICK!

Rick frowned when Shane started to thump his paws against the concrete excitedly.   
“Shush. Stay. I’ll be gone only for a moment, alright?” He patted Shane’s head and walked inside.

“Mornin’!” A gruff voice greeted him as soon as he stepped through the threshold, and Rick looked for the source. There was no one behind the counter, the main aisle was deserted, and nobody was standing next to the fish tanks. Rick turned his head to his left and finally spotted Daryl.

He was standing on a ladder, putting a heavy-looking box onto the highest shelf. Rick swallowed hard seeing Daryl’s muscled arms flex - he had always had a thing for nicely shaped bodies…   
“Morning,” he said instead, looking to the side and trying to appear busy with the goods lying around.   
“Gimmie a minute and I’ll be at yer service.” Daryl called in Rick’s general direction without turning around, and went back to the box. He pushed it this way and that, making sure the bottom was aligned neatly with the edge of the shelf. His last sentence rang inside Rick’s brain and brought blush-worthy images to his mind.

_At your service._

Forcing himself not to groan, Rick picked up a random box and focused on the label, trying to chase away the surprising feeling of electricity coursing through his body.

He must have been blinking stupidly at the box for a good minute, before he managed to actually read anything. Once he did, Rick had to close his eyes for a moment.

‘Pig tails.’

_Marvelous._

Rick put the box away blindly, taking a deep breath. There was this jolt of electricity again, slowly trickling down his spine. _Yeah he was a pig. And his tail was pretty inter-_

God _dammit!_

“Oh, hey.” Daryl appeared next to him, almost making Rick jump. He turned around quickly, eyes wide.   
“Hi,” Rick tried, but had to clear his throat. “I’m com… uh. I’m _here_ to ask if you got that ointment?” He mumbled, trying to sound casual. Thankfully, Daryl just nodded and started to walk towards the other end of the shop, and Rick could take a few seconds to collect himself.

_More like, mentally scold himself._

He went after Daryl finally, quickly catching up in the small space.   
“Was afraid ya wouldn’t come on time,” Daryl said conversationally. Rick slowly counted to ten in his head. Today was not a good day to have serious ruminations about his sexuality.   
“Why?” He asked instead, happy that he managed not to squeak out the question. Daryl shrugged.   
“This stuff’s so good it’s flying like hotcakes,” Daryl explained and ducked under the counter. Rick pinched the bridge of his nose - counting to ten wouldn’t help. Maybe he should try reciting the alphabet in reverse?

“Ordered ten, they brought me eight an’ said tha’s all they had left in the store,” Daryl went on, still digging around boxes under the counter. “A guy came in just after I open’d today, bought five. Said there were wolves huntin’ near his cattle, some got bitten,” he finally straightened up and produced a jar of ointment. He pushed it towards Rick, who took it gingerly in his hands.

It wasn’t as small as he thought it would be - a bit smaller than a whiskey tumbler, perhaps, filled with something white and, as far as he could tell, very jelly-like. He looked at Daryl.

“Alright. What do I do with it?” Rick asked, frowning. Daryl shrugged.   
“Smear it over the edge. Don’ put it in the middle, ‘cause that hurts like hell an’ will make it worse,” Daryl gruffed out, but the words were all jumbled in Rick’s head. They changed their order somehow, and he was left with an unholy mess which made him feel too warm inside his clothes.

Seeing a confused look on Rick’s face, Daryl huffed and took the jar from him. He opened it and scooped up some of the white jello with his finger. Rick watched, transfixed, as he brought one of his arms up and turned his elbow to Rick. There was a large, freshly scabbed-over wound on Daryl’s forearm, something that looked like an inch-wide scrape. It started at his elbow and reached the middle of his forearm, and Rick wondered how he hadn’t seen it until now.

_Because you were too focused on ogling his shoulders, you moron._

Rick stared, as Daryl carefully smeared the ointment over the outer edge of the wound, not touching the center of it.   
“Like this,” he gruffed and Rick nodded, hoping he didn’t look like an overeager parrot. His eyes followed Daryl’s every move, as he wondered what had caused that particular scrape.   
“You use that on yourself?” Rick asked instead when Daryl was finished with his demonstration. Daryl shrugged again.   
“‘s good and it works,” he mumbled, making Rick’s eyebrows raise. _If it was good enough to heal Daryl’s arm, it would probably work on Shane, too._

“Yeah,” Rick muttered. For some strange reason, Rick’s mind kept going back to the wound on Daryl’s arm, even after Daryl had lowered his hand again. He couldn’t stop the worried feeling from spreading through him, so he tried to chalk it up to being a cop and making a living out of helping others.   
“Ya need anythin’ else?” Daryl asked, giving him back the jar. Rick thoughtfully scratched the back of his head.   
“Dog food?” He answered, saying it as if it was a question.

Honestly, he wasn’t sure. He knew that Shane was eating like mad, but for such a big dog, it wasn’t anything surprising. However, for some strange reason, he couldn’t remember how much of the feed was left - his thoughts were still circling around Daryl’s hurt forearm. Thankfully, Daryl nodded at him and walked out from behind the counter.   
“T’ same as the last time?”   
“Yeah… yeah, Shane liked it.”

Rick watched, as Daryl bagged another ten pounds of dog food and brought it back to the counter. His forearm came into view, and before Rick could bite his tongue, he risked a question.   
“Sorry, what happened to your arm?” He asked, hoping he wouldn’t sound too prying. Daryl glanced down at his elbow, his face momentarily confused, before he looked back at Rick.   
“An accident, nothing serious,” he muttered, like it wasn’t a big deal. Rick got more curious.   
“A horse?” He risked, basing his assumption on the size of the wound.

Daryl snorted.   
“A _bike.”_ He snickered. “I ain’t no rider, sheriff.”   
“Deputy,” Rick corrected automatically, before he caught himself. He looked apologetically at Daryl, biting his lip. “Sorry.”   
“‘s fine.” Daryl was smirking, eyes sparkling, and Rick let out a breath he didn’t knew he was holding. “Anythin’ else?”

_A kiss from you?_

Wait, _what?_

Rick shook his head.   
“No, that’s all.” He reached for his wallet. Daryl rang him up and Rick paid, thanking him when Daryl put his shopping into one, larger bag.

Just as he was about to walk out, Daryl called after him.   
“Hey, wait!” Rick turned around hearing this, just to be faced with Daryl jogging to him down the aisle. _God help him._   
“Shane with ya?”   
“Um… yeah, he’s waiting outside,” Rick answered, frowning.   
“Mind if I say hello?” Daryl asked and Rick smiled.   
“Go ahead.”

Daryl nodded and took a small dog treat from one of the boxes standing on the shelf to their right. They walked out and Shane immediately started to yip and jump around excitedly.   
“Hey dude,” Daryl greeted him. He stepped up to the dog and let him sniff his hand, before he reached out with the other and presented Shane with the treat.

RICK! RICK LOOK! DARYL GOT ME COOKIE! RICK LOOK! DARYL LIKES ME!

Rick laughed quietly when he saw Shane practically inhaling the treat. After thoroughly licking Daryl’s hand, Shane turned to Rick and head-butted his leg.   
“Yes, I’m back,” Rick said, rolling his eyes.

I’M A GOOD BOI RICK! I WAITED! SEE? I GOT A TREAT ‘CAUSE I’M A GOOD BOI!

“He’s cute,” Daryl smiled, looking from Shane to Rick. “Hope he’ll heal well.”   
“Thanks,” Rick said, looking down. There was something in Daryl’s sparkling eyes that warmed Rick’s chest. “Alright, Shane, we should get going.” He glanced at Shane, who gave a bark in response.

“Thank you, Daryl,” Rick said, fixing his gaze on him one more time. “Really.”   
“No problem, Rick,” Daryl gruffed out.

As they were walking away, Rick realized that he needed to sit himself down for a serious talk.

 

-&-

 

Pig tails… _Fucking pig tails…_

Rick practically groaned, sitting down on his couch, a beer in one hand, the TV remote in the other. Shane was ambling somewhere in the kitchen - Rick could hear the soft thumping of his paws. He sighed and opened his beer, immediately guzzling down one third of it.

Pig tails.

This situation couldn’t be more ridiculous if it had been _staged._

Rick didn’t know what had happened, honestly. One moment he was walking with Shane, and the other, he was faced with the hottest piece of… well, _ass_ didn’t really cover it, did it? Daryl’s ass was _very nice,_ especially when it was up on that ladder and being ogled from the floor level… But it wasn’t _just_ the ass, no… Rick didn’t do anything by halves, and naturally he had had to go and notice everything else about Daryl, too.

Wide shoulders? Check.

Muscular arms? Check.

Beautiful eyes? Check.

A gruffy, hot-as-hell voice? Cross-check!

Rick shook his head, taking a huge sip of beer. That wasn’t even half of it. Daryl was intelligent, too - his wit so quick, it had left Rick stammering on their first encounter, and blinking like a demented owl on their second. Daryl had a great sense of humor, something Rick could actually admire. He managed to crack Rick up even when Rick’s brain was half-boiled by the dirty thoughts coursing through it. And how could they not? Daryl was simply hot… in every way imaginable.

Rick had known for a long time that he liked both, men and women… and Daryl was a very _fine specimen…_

_Oh, get a grip, Grimes!_

But somehow, Rick couldn’t. His thoughts kept circling back to Daryl, to those gorgeous eyes and flexing arms, to that cocky smirk and… _And Rick could feel himself getting hard._ He huffed, looking down at his crotch, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Back when he had been with Lori, their marriage had slowly boiled over and put out the fire. When it came to sex, their last few months were filled with Rick’s solo, one-handed sessions… mostly in the shower. Lori hated any kind of sexual innuendos and erotic situations happening outside the bedroom in general. She had hated it when Rick tried to do anything even a bit spontaneous.

In the end, he had lost any remaining interest in sex in general, which had only gotten worse after the divorce. Living alone, he could finally breathe and do whatever he wanted…

_It was just too bad that his sex drive went bust._

The sudden sparks of desire shooting through his body had surprised him. And now, the surprises continued, as he placed one hand on his crotch and rubbed the slight bulge under the denim. He was more than half hard, his cock decidedly liking the idea of Daryl. Rick sighed and squeezed himself through his jeans - it felt good. It felt better than it had in _years._

He looked over his shoulder - a habit he had taken up when he had still been living with Lori - only to find the expected… _his empty house._

Turning back, biting his lip for a moment, Rick looked at his crotch one more time.

Decision made, he started to paw at his belt, unbuckling it in record time. The button was the next, then the zipper, and finally, Rick could wrap his hand around his cock. It was hot between his fingers, and Rick gave himself an experimental tug, groaning quietly at the feeling. His flesh hardened even more when he squeezed his fist around it, and Rick slid a bit further down the couch, his head falling back and eyes closing. He started to move his hand slowly, up and down, an easy motion that soon had him panting.

He was about to reach out with his other hand and curl it around the head, when he felt a puff of air gushing over his sensitive flesh.

Rick’s head shot up so quickly, he thought he felt something snapping in his neck.

Shane was pushing his large head across Rick’s legs and into his crotch, sniffing as if he was looking for drugs.

“Jesus _fuck!”_ Rick squeaked, jumping up and scrambling away. _“Shane!”_ He admonished, scowling at the dog, who backed up a step and sat down on his hunches, a low whining sound escaping him.

RICK! YOUR TAIL IS ALL WRONG! IT’S ON THE WRONG SIDE! RICK!

Rick felt his cock softening, which was as well - he could tuck himself back in. Once he was finished with zipping his jeans back up, he ran a hand through his hair, huffing. Shane was still sitting next to the couch, his paws thumping against the floor. Rick looked at him in exasperation.

RICK! YOUR TAIL IS HURT! IT WAS ALL WET! RICK! LET ME HELP! RICK!

“Oh, go _away,_ Shane,” Rick grumbled and got up. He wandered into the kitchen, eyes set on his fridge - he would need something stronger than that beer, and there was a perfectly fine bottle of vodka waiting for him.

 

-&-

 

The next time Rick had a day off, he took Shane out for a longer walk. The wound was healing up nicely - it was barely even there anymore. Shane was back to his happy, prancing-around self, and Rick was more than ready to get him out of the house for a solid afternoon stroll in the park.

They walked around for a bit, and Rick had to stomp down the urge to throw a stick and let Shane fetch it. He knew the wound wasn’t completely healed yet, no matter how well Shane looked in that moment.

RICK! A SQUIRREL! LOOK! IT CRUNCHY! CAN I HAS IT? RICK?

Shane barked and thumped next to him, tugging on the leash, and Rick followed his gaze. There were bushes right next to them, their leaves rustling softly with the slight wind blowing around, and Rick sighed.   
“What is it, Shane?” He asked, petting Shane’s head. But Shane’s eyes stayed glued to the bushes, and he gave another bark.

RICK! SOMETHING ELSE IS THERE! I KNOW THIS SMELL!

Shane tugged on the leash again and Rick took a step closer to the bushes. He watched, as Shane lowered his head and sniffed, before he dove between the branches, almost dislocating Rick’s shoulder in the process. He stumbled forward and landed between the branches, groaning and trying to shield his eyes from the twigs.   
“Shane!” Rick shouted through a mouthful of leaves, pushing himself up and getting out. He let go of the leash and just crawled back, kneeling on the grass and blinking to get a bug out of his eye. Thankfully it went away quickly.

“What the hell!?” The bush growled and Rick frowned, looking at it. He could still see Shane’s tail sticking out of it, but he was sure Shane couldn’t talk, so…

“Ouch! What the… _Hey!”_ Shane walked back, ass-first, from between the leaves, his mouth closed around a… _sleeve?_ Rick blinked, then blinked again, following the length of the sleeve up, until his gaze settled on a face.

_Daryl._

“Oh my god! _Shane!_ Let go!” Rick admonished, scowling at the dog. Thank god, Shane opened his mouth and looked at him, tail wagging excitedly.   
“The hell?” Daryl asked, stumbling out of the bushes and looking at Rick with narrowed eyes.   
“I’m so sorry,” Rick apologized hurriedly.   
“Yer doggo almost gave me a stroke, man,” Daryl gruffed, turning to Shane. “What? Ya thought I was a squirrel or somethin’?”

DARYL! LOOK RICK! THIS DARYL! RICK! I FOUND YOU A DARYL!

“Shane, _down,”_ Rick snapped, glaring at the dog, until he sat down. “I’m so sorry for that…” Rick stood up finally and looked at Daryl. “You okay?”   
“Yeah, ‘m fine.” Daryl shrugged, dusting off his leather jacket.   
“What were you doing there, anyway?” Rick asked, curious. “You moonlighting as a spy?”   
“Nah,” Daryl laughed at that, a short, happy sound that made Rick melt just a little bit inside. “Was settin’ up a feeder fer the animals. Ya know… squirrels an’ birds, the small ones,” Daryl said, then looked to the side. He looked a bit shy, as if admitting to helping his furry friends made him look somehow weird.

Rick had to stomp down the urge to kiss him.

 _That_ would probably end with a black eye.

Rick cleared his throat.  
“Can I make it up to you somehow?” He asked, pointing at Daryl’s sleeve. It didn’t look bad, just a bit of slobber caught on the edge of it, -  thankfully, Shane didn’t bite through the material. Daryl looked up at him.   
“Ya got a beer?” Daryl asked and Rick fought the huge smile that threatened to split his face into two.   
“Yeah. It’s in my fridge, though. Wanna come?” Rick asked, feeling his cheeks getting a bit hot after he realized, just how he had phrased that question.   
“Sure!” Thankfully, Daryl only smirked. Rick turned to Shane and picked up the leash.   
“Come on, you crazy bastard,” he smiled down at the dog.

Shane deserved a treat later for setting him up with Daryl.

 

-&-

 

“Here,” Rick murmured, handing Daryl his beer.

They were seated in Rick’s living room, Shane wandering around the house somewhere, probably making a mess of Rick’s bedroom that he had left open just to have Shane away for a bit. He knew the dog loved his bed for some reason, so it was a good way to keep him entertained.

Daryl took the bottle and sipped from it, looking at Rick. The picture of Daryl’s lips pressed to the rim was so hot, Rick was happy they had foregone the glasses. He _had_ proposed them, thank you very much, but Daryl had just shaken his head, stating that he _‘ain’t a girl Rick has to dance ‘round.’_

“So, how’s he doin’?” Daryl asked, nodding his head in the general direction of where Shane had disappeared down the hallway.   
“Shane? He’s better, thanks. The wound’s almost all gone, and he’s back to being his normal self… as you could see in the park,” Rick chuckled, and Daryl smirked a bit.   
“He’s a good dog. Thought he was gonna chomp mah hand off at first, but then he just grabbed t’ sleeve an’ pulled me out,” Daryl explained, and Rick nodded.   
“Yeah, he did that before. He got a girl out of a burning house like this once. Saved her life,” Rick said, smiling proudly.

“Woah!” Daryl whistled quietly. He looked impressed. “Thought those attack dogs were jus’ fer that, ya know? Attack.”   
“No. I mean, _yes,_ technically.” Rick sighed. “But Shane’s never been _just_ an attack dog. He would have made a fine sniffer, if he hadn’t been so lazy,” Rick grinned. Daryl nodded.   
“I can imagine that.” He took another sip of his beer. “He’s calm fer an attack dog… could keep kids safe, I think. An’ that doesn’t happen often,” Daryl said it so casually, Rick felt a pang somewhere deep inside. His current situation had suddenly come back to him full-force.

“Well, don’t let my ex-wife know. She may come and get him, too,” Rick muttered, guzzling down half of his bottle. When he looked at Daryl, the man was watching him with narrowed eyes.   
“Sorry,” Daryl offered, but Rick shook his head.   
“Nothing to be sorry for. She cheated on me, then asked for a divorce. Took my house, took my car… at least she didn’t take him,” Rick shrugged, trying to look more nonchalant than he felt. “I guess it was a good thing. Our marriage was dying, anyway,” he mumbled, looking at his hands.   
“Look man, I didn’t - ” Daryl broke off mid-sentence. Rick groaned.

There was a sound of a fabric being ripped and then soft patting followed. Rick ran his palms over his face, huffing. _Shane._

Sure enough, a moment later, Shane appeared in the living room. Rick side-eyed him, groaning again. Daryl laughed.

Shane was standing right next to the couch, a shredded pillow hanging from his mouth, big puppy eyes fixed firmly on Rick.   
“What have you done _now?”_ Rick asked, turning to the dog. He reached out, trying to grab the pillow, but Shane stepped back and sat down, still looking up at him.

YA WERE SAD! I FELT YOU SAD RICK! I BROUGHT YOU FLOOF! FLOOFY PILLOW GOOD FOR SAD! RICK!

“He’s cute,” Daryl chuckled next to him.   
“That’s not the word I’d use,” Rick growled, which apparently was funny enough to make Daryl laugh quietly.   
“‘s just a pillow, Rick,” Daryl stated, grinning. Rick stared at Shane with a mix of astonishment and exasperation. _He liked that pillow, damnit._ But yeah, Daryl was right. It was just a pillow… a reminder of what he had had, too. Of the good times.

“It was one of the few things I got for myself in the divorce. Lori took the rest,” Rick admitted quietly, clearing his throat and looking down at his hands. “Had it since I graduated, my mom bought it for me when I was going to the academy.” Rick looked longingly at the shredded pillowcase hanging from the dog’s mouth. It was cream-colored and had a slight, abstract pattern running over the whole surface. Daryl frowned.   
“Sorry fer laughing,” he muttered, taking another sip of his beer.   
“Nah, you’re right, it’s just a pillow. Should get another one, anyway,” Rick shook his head, deciding to let the thing be. Lori had always said that he got too attached to such things.   
“Could probably stitch it back up,” Daryl offered, nodding at Shane, who let the pillow go and sat down right next to it. Rick shrugged.

“I would make a mess of it.”   
“I can help ya,” Daryl offered, glancing at him. Rick smiled.   
“You are good with animals, you ride a bike, _and_ you know how to stitch… You know how to repair a shower, too?” He asked, laughing, but his laugh trailed off when he took in the look on Daryl’s face. _“Seriously?”_   
“Yep,” Daryl nodded. “Could probably take care of yer car, too. And that possum ya got rootin’ ‘round yer yard,” Daryl nodded to the window. Rick frowned.   
“A possum? _What?”_   
“Saw some signs when we were walkin’ ‘ere,” Daryl shrugged and drank from the bottle. Rick just sat there, gaping at him. “What?”   
“How are you real?” Rick blurted out, before he could stop himself.

_Way to go, Grimes. Fuck it up, why don’t you?_

Thankfully, Daryl just smirked.   
“Got more of that?” He asked, shaking his empty bottle. Rick stood up, drinking down the rest of his own beer, before he walked to the kitchen.   
“I was thinking about ordering a pizza… you game?” Rick asked, taking two new bottles from the fridge.   
“Sure!” Daryl shouted back at him. “Jus’ no pineapple!”

Rick grinned. He _hated_ pineapple on pizza.

 

-&-

 

The evening went smooth after that. They ordered something that resembled a pizza covered in chicken and peppers, drank two more beers each, and were pretty sated by the time the night fell.   
“Man, this was some good chicken,” Daryl praised, licking some grease off of his fingers. Rick nodded, swallowing his last bite.

Somehow, their conversation had drifted to easier and lighter topics, and this in turn, had let Rick’s mind wander to all those things he shouldn’t be noticing. Like Daryl licking his fingers. Or those stormy eyes focusing on Rick a bit too long. Or the way his hair fell all over his face, before Daryl brought it back with a swipe of his strong fingers.

On one occasion, Shane had stolen Rick’s slice of pizza, because he had been too focused on Daryl to notice his dinner disappearing from his plate.

“Shit… I should go,” Daryl said suddenly, and Rick’s stomach dropped. Had he been staring a bit too hard? He tried not to look disappointed when Daryl glanced at him. Thankfully, Daryl provided an explanation to this. An explanation that didn’t do anything to make Rick feel better. “Sorry, Carol wanted me to check on her washing machine… Promised I’d do it,” Daryl shrugged, then dug out his phone.   
“Well… you do what you’ve got to do,” Rick said, carefully keeping his voice level. “Can’t keep your girlfriend waiting, right?”   
“She ain’t my girlfriend.”

 _Oh, the sun shining from behind the clouds._  

“Sorry,” Rick took a sip of his beer to get his throat to work properly. “Figured with you helping her with the washing machine and all…”   
“Nah. She’s my friend, ‘s all,” Daryl tapped for a moment on his phone, then he looked back at Rick. “She was in a hard spot some time back. I helped her a bit…”   
“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself, Daryl. I’m sorry for being nosy,” Rick mumbled, hoping his cheeks weren’t as red as he thought they were.   
“Ya looked like I’ve just murdered yer kitty or somethin’,” Daryl said with a smirk. Rick groaned.

Daryl finished his beer and got up. Rick walked him to the door, all the time feeling a bit light-headed. He didn’t know if it was the beer, or Daryl himself, but he was happy to feel good for a change.   
“Thanks for coming over,” he said, just before Daryl could walk out of his house. The man turned around and eyed Rick. There was something dark in his gaze, something that made Rick’s head swim a little more.

And then, without any warning, Daryl was leaning forward and pressing their lips together. Rick inhaled sharply at the contact, the kiss registering in his brain with a wave of warm electricity that flickered all the way down his spine. Before he could do anything, however, Daryl was pulling away, whispering “thanks fer the beer,” and walking out.

Rick watched with dazed expression, as he went quietly away, his back disappearing in the darkness after a minute or two. When he closed the door and turned back around, Shane was sitting right behind him, a big, doggy smile plastered to his furry face.   
“Not a word!” Rick huffed, stepping around him and going back into the living room. He had a beer to finish, and a shower to get to. _Both of them cold._

 

-&-

 

The next time they met, it was two days later. Working on the highway, pulling people over for speeding, Rick didn’t expect to see a familiar face with narrowed, stormy-blue eyes.

“Good morning. License and registration, please,” Rick rattled off, not even looking at the man sitting on the bike, choosing instead to send a glare in Michonne’s direction. His partner was sitting in the cruiser, grinning at him about a joke she had made before he had gotten out.   
“Here,” a gruffy voice said, and Rick startled, jerking his head around. There, dressed in a leather vest with wings stitched on the back, holding a helmet with one hand and giving Rick his papers with the other, was nobody else, but Daryl.

“Oh shit, hey,” Rick smiled sheepishly, seeing a smirk forming on Daryl’s lips.   
“Hello there, officer,” he greeted, nodding. Rick took the offered papers and browsed through them, but he didn’t really read anything. It was too hard to focus when he could feel Daryl’s gaze boring into him.   
“That’s a nice bike,” Rick said, waving his hand at the machine. It was big, black, and looked dangerous, just like the man straddling it.   
“Thanks,” Daryl grinned. “Wanna ride on it?”

Rick almost choked on his own tongue at the images his brain provided. Images that definitely involved Daryl’s strong thighs wrapped around som…

He cleared his throat, then tried to swallow the excess of saliva that had suddenly flooded his mouth. _He was working, damit._   
“You were… ah… You were going too fast, Daryl,” Rick mumbled, licking his lips when he noticed Daryl staring at him intensely.   
“Oh yeah?”   
“Uhm… yeah, about five miles over the speed limit.”   
“Shit.” Daryl frowned. “There somethin’ I can do?” Daryl asked, faking innocence.

_How about we go to my place…_

_Shut up, brain._

Rick cleared his throat again, shaking his head.   
“You’re lucky. I will let you off with a warning this time,” Rick muttered, trying to count to ten in his head. “Let me run those through the computer first, though, alright?” He said, waving Daryl’s license in front of him.   
“Sure thing, Officer Friendly.”

_God help me._

Rick went back to the cruiser. He didn’t even get in, just stuck his hand into it through the open window.   
“Check these,” he muttered to Michonne. “Not a word.” He added when he saw the beginnings of a devilish grin forming on her lips.   
“Yessir,” She saluted him mockingly, taking the papers and calling dispatch. A few moments later, Rick was walking back to Daryl.

“Alright, everything looks good, you’re free to go,” Rick said, handing Daryl his license. Daryl smirked, then put it into his pocket.   
“Ya sure there isn’t anything I can do fer ya, officer?” He asked, looking Rick up and down.

_You can get into my bed…_

Rick shook his head distractedly.   
“Beer?” He asked, frowning when Daryl barked out a laugh. “What?”   
“Thought ya were on duty…” Daryl said, eyes sparkling.   
“Not now… I… I meant, _later._ How…” Rick took a deep breath. “How about a beer at mine? I finish at seven o’clock.” He said, trying not to blush. _What the hell was he even doing? He was supposed to work, not set himself up for a date._   
“Alright. I’ll be there,” Daryl nodded, then put his helmet back on. He secured it in place and looked at Rick expectantly.   
“Okay, see you. Drive carefully,” Rick mumbled, fighting a mad grin.

It was a date.

 

-&-

 

In the evening, when Rick finally pulled up to his house, Daryl was already there, sitting on the porch steps, his bike parked neatly on the side of Rick’s driveway. Rick smiled and got out of the cruiser, grabbing a six-pack of beer and a bag of potato chips he had bought, before he locked it.

“Hey,” he said, noticing a cloud of smoke.   
“Hi,” Daryl smiled when Rick walked closer. He waved his hand around, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Hope ya don’ mind?”   
“Nah, it’s fine,” Rick said, shaking his head slightly. He walked to the door, noting that Daryl had a backpack lying behind him. Shrugging, Rick fished out his keys and opened the door, bracing himself for the onslaught of a very excited Shane.

RICK! YOU BACK! I THOUGHT YOU LEFT ME FOREVER! BUT YOU BACK! AND WITH SOMEONE!

Shane jumped around happily, trying to bark and lick Rick’s face a the same time, which caused him to make a funny sort of noise. Rick laughed, then stepped aside, letting Shane pass. The dog ran out, made a mad circle on the grass, then came back, finally stopping in front of Daryl who was still sitting on the steps.   
“Hi there,” Daryl said, letting Shane sniff him.

DARYL! RICK LOOK I FOUND DARYL! DARYL IS HERE RICK!

Shane yipped happily, then lunged forward, basically pouncing on Daryl and licking him all over. The movement knocked Daryl back and he landed on the porch, laughing gruffly when Shane just climbed on him and continued his greetings.   
“Shane! Behave!” Rick rolled his eyes, but it didn’t look like Daryl minded. He just let himself be licked all over until Shane had his fill and went to run around the house.

“Sorry,” Rick muttered, smiling sheepishly, before he held out a hand and helped Daryl off of his porch. “You okay?”   
“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Daryl nodded, dusting off the seat of his dark trousers. Rick tried not to let his gaze linger on the movement of Daryl’s hands on his ass.

“Let’s get inside, huh?” Rick prompted, and Daryl nodded, looking at his cigarette. He took one last drag then looked around for a place to put it out. Rick grabbed a potted plant standing in the corner and placed it near Daryl’s feet.   
“Here.”   
“Ya sure?” Daryl eyed the half-dead plant, frowning.   
“Yeah. Got it for a housewarming party… from a neighbor that was beating up on his wife. Don’t care about it,” Rick said, nodding at the plant. Daryl’s eyes widened.   
“What happened to ‘im?”   
“I might have arrested him… after I punched him a time or two,” Rick shrugged, but the grin on Daryl’s face made him smile a bit, too.   
“A time or two, huh?” The way Daryl’s eyes narrowed told Rick he didn’t buy it.   
“...maybe a dozen,” he admitted.   
“That’s good,” Daryl said, then pushed the cigarette into the soil. They called Shane and went inside.

 

-&-

 

The door was barely closed behind them, when Rick felt Daryl backing him up against it, hands on hips and an insistent mouth pressed to his. Rick groaned in surprise, parting his lips with a gasp and letting Daryl’s tongue slip in to stroke hotly against his own.   
_“Jesus,”_ Rick breathed out when they parted, but the pause was short lived, as Daryl was only changing the angle a bit to have a better access. He hummed, biting on Rick’s bottom lip and tugging on it, before he changed his tactics and attacked the upper one, sucking on it mercilessly.

Rick could feel liquid heat pooling down in his abdomen, spreading through him and making him shiver excitedly. He fought to get his hands to cooperate, and soon, he was unticking the shirt Daryl was wearing underneath his winged vest, and sliding his fingers over his bare sides. It tore a groan out of Daryl, his mouth skidding to the side until it landed on Rick’s neck. He scraped his teeth over the sensitive flesh, then laved at it with his tongue, making Rick moan loudly.

Mad barking tore them apart, and Rick looked behind Daryl’s back at a very excited Shane thumping on the floor.

RICK! I WANNA PLAY TOO! I WANNA BELLY RUB TOO! RICK COME ON!

The dog walked closer, standing on his hind legs and pawing at Daryl’s hip.

DARYL YOU PET ME! I WANT A BELLY RUB! COME ON DARYL!

Rick groaned and let his head fall on Daryl’s shoulder.   
“Jesus _fuck,_ Shane…” he muttered in exasperation, feeling Daryl shaking. Frowning, Rick pulled away, just to see a mad grin plastered all over Daryl’s face, his body jerking with silent laughter.   
“Don’t worry,” Daryl gruffed out, giving Rick a quick peck on the lips, pressing his whole body into him for a few seconds, just for long enough to let Rick feel the hardness in his pants.

“Hey, Shane,” Daryl said, turning around and grabbing his backpack. He stuck a hand inside it. “So, who’s been a good boy?” He asked, carefully taking something out. Shane jumped up and yipped at him happily.

ME! IMMA GOOD BOI DARYL! ME! RICK SEE? IMMA GOOD BOI!

“Alright,” Daryl gruffed, finally pulling out a…

_What the hell was that?_

Rick frowned. _Hard._

It looked like a… _a fucking dildo -_ Rick’s mind supplied, while he eyed the dick-shaped object. It was long and thick, rather smooth, and a bit thicker at the ends. The fact that it was of some kind of bright, yellowy-green color didn’t do anything to stop Rick’s imagination.

It was just a fucking _dog toy,_ but Rick’s mind went into the dangerous territory anyway. He tried hard not to blush when Daryl showed it to him, but he could still feel his cheeks getting way too warm. Daryl eyed him, but didn’t comment, so Rick gave him a silent nod, hoping he wouldn’t bite through his own tongue in an attempt to keep the noises in. The images his brain provided were far too X-rated for this stupid fucking toy.

THAT FOR ME? DARYL! THAT FOR THE GOOD BOI? IMMA GOOD BOI!

Daryl huffed out a laugh, then waved the dil… _the toy_ in front of Shane. The dog tried to catch it, jumping up a bit, but Daryl was faster. Twisting around, he threw it in the direction of Rick’s living room, and smirked when Shane took off after it, chasing it with a single-minded intent.   
“Alright, should keep ‘im busy… where were we?” Daryl asked, turning back to Rick. He was about to step closer to him again and pick up where they left off, but he took in the look on Rick’s face. “Ya okay?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

Rick shook his head slightly to clear it.

_Perfectly fine, just imagining you fucking me five ways to Sunday with a dog toy…_

Forcing himself not to groan at his own thoughts, Rick leaned in and kissed Daryl soundly.   
“He’s gonna come back with it,” he muttered, giving into the urge to press himself against Daryl’s body. He was still wearing his uniform, and Daryl was fully clothed, too, but it didn’t stop him from moaning at the heat seeping through the layers. “Bedroom?” He whispered, already turning them around and tugging Daryl in the right direction.

They crashed through the door, then locked it firmly behind them. Before Rick could do anything, Daryl walked him back into it, immediately fusing their mouths together. Rick moaned into the kiss, arching into Daryl’s body and wrapping his hands around Daryl’s waist. He tried to pull him closer, his body demanding something to rub against, but Daryl resisted. He pulled away from Rick’s mouth and leaned forward to whisper into his ear.   
“Think I owe ya _thanks_ fer not givin’ me a ticket, _officer,”_ he rasped, licking Rick’s ear and making him bite his lip hard.

_Jesus fucking Christ._

Daryl nibbled his way down Rick’s neck, until he stopped at the collar of his sheriff’s uniform. He ran his tongue along the edge of it, then sucked on the pulse point, tearing a desperate groan out of Rick. Smirking, making sure that Rick would remain standing with his back against the door, Daryl slowly sank to his knees, dragging his palms down Rick’s chest as he went.

Swallowing convulsively, Rick looked down, his brain short-circuiting when he saw Daryl’s arms. His shoulders looked even wider from this vantage point, and Rick had troubles keeping his mouth from overwatering. He kept on watching as those strong arms rose and Daryl’s broad palms settled on his waist. A few quick tugs, and Daryl was untucking his uniform shirt and leaning in. He sucked and licked all over Rick’s abdomen, causing a shiver of anticipation to run wild through Rick’s body.

He didn’t stop there, though. A few moments, a surprisingly erotic dip of his tongue in Rick’s navel, and his hands were skimming down, bypassing the gun belt Rick was still wearing and stopping on the clear outline of Rick’s cock. Daryl wrapped his left hand around it as much as he could, squeezing gently until Rick’s knees buckled, before he slowly lowered the zipper. The quiet, jagged sound had no right to sound as filthy as it did.

When Daryl finally reached inside and took him out, Rick’s head landed on the door behind him with a quiet _thump,_ his mouth falling open on a groan.   
“Fuck…” he mumbled, trying to bite back the whine that was bubbling inside him. Daryl didn’t give him a chance - before Rick could get used to the image of Daryl leaning forward to place a dirty little kiss on the head of his cock, Daryl was already wrapping his lips around it, letting it slide as deeply as he comfortably could.

_Which turned out to be quite deep._

“Jesus, Daryl… _fuck,”_ Rick huffed out, feeling like his lungs had forgotten what breathing was. The air in the room seemed nonexistent when Daryl pulled all the way up, then plunged forward again, bobbing his head on Rick’s cock like a fucking pro.

_Christ, this was going to be over embarrassingly fast._

Feeling pleasure coiling deep in his gut, Rick let his hands travel to Daryl’s head, looking for purchase. He was getting dizzy with the lack of oxygen, but whispering _Daryl, Daryl, Daryl,_ over and over again seemed more important than breathing right now. And then Daryl did something with his tongue that involved a small pleased moan vibrating through Rick’s cock just to splash hotly against his spine, and Rick whined, feeling his toes curl in his boots. Daryl’s hands found his belt and fisted around it, keeping his hips from jerking forward, and Rick couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

One dirty look from Daryl, his narrowed eyes gazing up at Rick, a strong suck, and Rick was coming, body straining against Daryl’s hold. Daryl just kept on sucking him, swallowing everything Rick had to give, until his body stopped jerking in place.

Giving Rick’s cock a few gentle licks, Daryl cleaned him up, then tucked him away. He sneaked one palm to rub against his own bulge, biting his lip when Rick finally looked down at him.   
“Come here,” the sheriff murmured, tugging Daryl up decidedly, fusing their mouths together as soon as they were level again.

Feeling that his own knees were still a bit shaky, Rick grabbed Daryl’s hips for support and started walking forward, moving them both in the direction of his bed. It was messy - he hadn’t had time to make it in the morning - but Daryl didn’t seem to care much about it when he plopped down on the mattress. Rick smiled at him, then slid down, landing on his knees between Daryl’s thighs. His hands traveled to Daryl’s shirt, fingers busy unbuttoning it. Rick didn’t even want to take it off, he just pushed the sides back and dove forward, kissing and licking the newly exposed skin.

He could feel Daryl shiver, a second before those strong fingers tangled in his hair. Rick hummed at that, never pausing his journey, until he reached Daryl’s belt. With a few rather sloppy movements, he managed to undo it. He didn’t know why, but the sound the belt made when he slipped it free was erotic enough to make his cheeks burn. Rick glanced up, meeting Daryl’s heated gaze, then let the belt fall to the floor and got busy with the zipper.

Daryl couldn’t tear his eyes away if he tried. Rick, the hot as hell cop with a heart of gold, still in his sheriff’s uniform, was kneeling in front of him and tugging impatiently at his zipper. _It was too fucking good to be true._ And yet, the warm mouth sliding over his cock a few moments later felt startlingly real. Rick licked the underside of his length, then sucked on the head, before he let it slip between his lips, and _oh fuck…_

Daryl’s fingers tightened in those soft curls instinctively. It was clear that Rick had done it before, even if he was a bit out of practice. Daryl didn’t really mind - he had a feeling that it would have been over already had Rick been polishing his skills. The way he moved his tongue against Daryl’s dick was positively sinful, and it fried Daryl’s brain into nothingness. He groaned, trying hard not to buck up into that perfect mouth. Rick’s hands settled on his hips again, keeping him down, so he must have failed at that. He couldn’t really tell - his mind was getting blank, the pleasure coursing through him settling somewhere at the base of his spine.   
“Rick…” he mumbled out, looking down, feeling way too hot at the picture that greeted him.

Rick, with his lips wrapped tightly around his length, with his blue eyes glancing up at Daryl, with his sheriff’s uniform and that damned gun belt still on, looking absolutely _obscene_ in this setting… Daryl couldn’t stop himself if he tried. He came with a bitten off moan, his back arching as pleasure crashed through him. He didn’t even have the time to warn Rick, but it didn’t seem like he minded - he just kept on sucking, working his hand over the part he couldn’t fit inside his mouth. Only after Daryl tugged him away, feeling too oversensitive to continue, did Rick give up.

“Where t’ hell did ya learn that?” Daryl asked breathily. Rick grinned and let himself be pulled up.   
“The academy…” he muttered between kisses, hands busy tucking Daryl away. Once he was done, he pushed Daryl back, prompting him to climb higher on the bed as Rick crawled over him, doing his best not to break the stream of kisses.   
“The fuck do they teach ya there?” Daryl huffed out a laugh, but Rick ignored that and just kept on trying to lick his way into Daryl’s mouth.   
“Only… important stuff… handling sticks and so on…”

Their post-sex makeout session was abruptly stopped by a low whine coming from the door. Rick broke away with a groan, and Daryl snickered.   
“He wants some love, too,” he joked, grinning when Rick scowled at him.   
“This dog’s gonna kill me one day…” he muttered, but climbed off the bed and walked to the door, just in time to hear a very insistent scratching against it.

“Alright, come on,” he said, opening it and letting Shane in.

RICK! WHY WAS THE DOOR CLOSED? IT’S NEVER CLOSED, RICK! RICK WHERE’S DARYL?

Shane trotted inside, then paused when he saw Daryl lying on the bed.   
“Hey, Shane,” Daryl greeted lazily, still sprawled on Rick’s bed. The dog piped up, before he pounced forward, landing on the bed right beside Daryl. He started to nose around him, sniffing every part of him, before he settled down right next to Daryl’s chest.

YOU SMELL LIKE RICK! I WANT TO SMELL LIKE RICK TOO! SO AWESOME! RICK COME HERE!

Rick rolled his eyes when Shane yipped at him, but he made his way back to the bed. He frowned when he realized that Shane had taken up most of the free space. Not seeing any other choice, still wanting a cuddle, Rick crawled over Daryl again, straddling him and lying down on his chest. Daryl huffed in surprise, but he still wrapped his arms around Rick, kissing him softly and ignoring Shane’s nose trying to poke its way between them.

_Yeah, Shane could suck it._

 

-&-

 

An hour later, they were seated on Rick’s couch, drinking beer and eating deer stew - Daryl had brought it with him, in a tupperware container hidden neatly in his backpack. Shane was running around with his new toy, and Rick couldn’t help but glance at it from time to time. It was unnerving.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say ya wanna play with that, too,” Daryl smirked, and Rick attached himself to his bottle, trying to hide his blush. When he finally stopped gulping down the beer and risked a glance at Daryl, he was met with those stormy blue eyes staring directly at him.

_Busted._

“Seriously?” Daryl asked, eyes narrowing. They didn’t look dangerous, rather playful, and Rick took a deep breath.   
“It kind of looks like…”   
“Like _what?”_ Daryl prompted.   
“Like a _dildo,”_ Rick mumbled, shrugging and trying to appear nonchalant. The snort coming from Daryl only made him blush harder. He couldn’t remember ever blushing like that. Trying hard to keep himself distracted with his beer bottle, Rick didn’t notice Daryl moving closer to him.

“Ya tellin’ me ya like to bottom?” Daryl whispered, right into Rick’s ear. The shiver it provoked was enough to make Rick bite off a moan. He licked his lip, then looked at Daryl. He still had that smirk on, but his eyes were fiery. “Got somethin’ better than that toy,” Daryl grinned, actually fucking _grinned_ at him, and Rick swallowed hard. “‘S gonna have to wait though, ‘m not twenty anymore.”

_Well, thank god, Rick would have gotten a heart attack otherwise._

Still, Rick couldn’t help himself, and pressed a small, chaste kiss to Daryl’s lips, before he got busy with the deer stew again. It was _delicious._   
“How did you learn to do that?” Rick asked around a mouthful of meat, humming in appreciation.   
“Had to eat somethin’ when I was away from home,” Daryl shrugged, picking up his bottle. Rick frowned.   
“You did that a lot?”   
“Yeah…” When Daryl fell silent with a strange expression on his face, Rick almost asked ‘ _why’._ But there was something in the way Daryl’s shoulders went up, something in the way his smirk disappeared, which prompted Rick to shut up. Daryl must have spotted his curiosity, though.

“Dad was a dickhead. Liked to drink. Liked to beat us, too.” The way Daryl said it, almost mechanically, reminded Rick of a recent domestic abuse case.   
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.   
“‘S okay, he’s in the ground anyway.”   
“Oh. That’s…” _Pretty fucking fantastic._ “Good.”   
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, looking to the side. Rick followed his gaze and spotted Shane standing right next to the couch, head-butting Daryl in the knee.

“Hey buddy.” Daryl smiled, giving Shane a few pats.

DARYL SAD. WHY SAD?

As Rick watched, Shane walked around, until he was standing between them. He looked at Rick expectantly, as if asking permission. Rick scoffed, knowing what was coming.   
“Alright then, come on.” He shifted a little to make some space, then patted the couch. Shane jumped up and crawled over Daryl, settling down on his lap.   
“Right…” Daryl looked down at the dog, then up at Rick questioningly. Rick shrugged.   
“You were sad. I took away the pillow, so he can’t bring you that… I guess the next best thing in his book is a lapful of fur,” he explained, smiling.

Daryl frowned, but his hands still went to Shane, fingers brushing through the fluffy fur right behind Shane’s ears.   
“Thanks, man,” he said, and it was clear that it was meant for Shane. Rick smiled.   
“I think you’ve just gotten a seal of approval or something.”   
“Ya think?” And there was that smirk again, the one that made Rick think about shootings and road crashes in an attempt at stopping his blush.

Shane placed his head on Daryl’s arm, demanding more petting, and Rick shook his head at him fondly.   
“You’re a bloody cat, that’s what you are,” he muttered. Shane jerked around to look at him.

CAT? WHERE!?

 

-&-

 

“You’re _not_ driving home,” Rick argued, putting on his best _sheriff look._ Daryl eyed him. “You’ve had four beers. There’s _no way_ you’re driving like that. You’re staying here.”   
“I don’t live that - ”   
“I’m a fucking _cop,_ Daryl. You’re _not driving_ tonight.” Rick scowled at him, which looked ridiculous, since he had about four beers, too, and was drunk enough to waver a bit.   
“Fine!” Daryl huffed, plopping back down on the couch. He lied down and stretched his legs, one hand automatically going to the floor to pet Shane on the head. He glanced at Rick, who was standing there, staring at him. “What?”   
“You’re _not_ sleeping on the couch.” Rick stated, in the same, inebriated, _don’t fuck with me_ tone.   
“Man… ain’t ya bossy.” Daryl groaned. “Where _do_ I sleep, then?”   
“Seriously?” Rick rolled his eyes. “Figure it out, genius.”

And with that, Rick went to the hallway. Daryl almost thought about ignoring him and staying in the living room with Shane, but then, just before he disappeared behind the corner, Rick took off his shirt and threw it somewhere to the side. Well… A sight of a very nice, _very_ _naked_ back proved to be enough to get Daryl off of the couch. He was moving before he even knew what he was doing.

He walked forward, not stopping until he had his palms placed on those narrow hips and could feel the heat of Rick’s skin under his fingers. From there, it was easy to bow down and kiss Rick’s bare shoulder. Daryl could feel the shiver that his action caused, and started to lick and nibble the same spot, smirking when Rick stumbled a bit.   
“Easy,” he murmured, tightening his hold on Rick’s hips and walking him forward. Shane yipped at them somewhere on the side, but Daryl ignored him in favor of finding a spot that would make Rick’s knees weak.

He found it just as they were approaching the bed - which was for the better, really. They both tumbled down on it - Rick with a small moan, because Daryl continued to suck right behind his ear.   
“Daryl…” Came the breathy whisper, and Daryl smirked, rearranging them so that he was lying on top of Rick, moving forward to kiss him properly. There was a bark in the background and, a moment later, a paw scratched over Daryl’s side gently.

DARYL! RICK! I WANT CUDDLES TOO! HEY! IMMA GOOD BOI! CUDDLE ME!

He tried to ignore it, but with another, more insistent scratch, he was forced to pause and look at Shane.   
“Dude, fuck _off,”_ Daryl growled, then tried to get back to kissing Rick, but something was wrong. Rick had gotten all tense and he refused to cooperate, so Daryl leaned back, gazing at him.   
“I have to… I have to get him out of here,” Rick mumbled, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.   
“What? _Why?”_ Daryl frowned, glancing from Rick to Shane, then back.   
“I… _can’t_ like this.”

Daryl raised one eyebrow at him, but his gaze drifted down Rick’s body.

_Oh._

“Seriously?” He asked, but Rick just nodded with his eyes closed. “Alright. Gimme a sec.” He rolled off, then went to Shane. “Come ‘ere.” He grabbed Shane gently and steered him to the door. The dog jumped up excitedly.

WE GONNA PLAY? WE GONNA PLAY, DARYL? IMMA SUCH A GOOD BOI! LET’S PLAY!

“Off you go,” Daryl prompted, gently pushing Shane out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

DARYL? DARYL!?

Daryl ignored the small whine that came from the outside, along with some scratching against the door.   
“Better?” He asked, crawling over Rick again, smiling when Rick nodded.   
“Yeah. Come here,” he whispered, tugging Daryl closer and kissing him deeply. Rick’s hands wandered down Daryl’s back, until they stopped on his ass. He squeezed it suggestively, making Daryl growl and drinking the sound in.   
“Yer drunk,” Daryl huffed, moving his mouth to the side, kissing down Rick’s jaw, just to end on his neck.   
“I’m not _that_ drunk.” Rick laughed breathily. He groaned in disappointment when Daryl’s lips disappeared from his skin.

Daryl looked at him with narrow eyes.   
“Yer _giggling,”_ Daryl said, but there was something playful in his tone. His hands traveled lower, landing on Rick’s belt, before he started to undo it.   
“I’m _laughing,”_ Rick argued, raising his hips to help Daryl with getting him naked. Once Rick’s pants and briefs hit the floor, Daryl started to lick a slow trail down his body.   
“Giggling.” His voice was a low growl, almost muffled by Rick’s skin. It sent sparks of arousal all the way down his spine.   
“Ah fuck, okay,” Rick moaned out, his back arching when Daryl sucked on his nipple. The electric shock that went through his body was enough to make his dick throb.   
“Giggling?” Daryl asked, one hand hovering over Rick’s length. _So close._   
“Definitely giggling!”

When Daryl’s rough fingers wrapped around his cock, Rick couldn’t really help the sound he made. It was loud, embarrassing, and so high he couldn’t believe he was the one who made it. But Daryl started to move his hand right after, and all rational thought flew Rick’s brain - the only thing that was left, the only thing that _mattered,_ was Daryl with his skilled hands and that amazing mouth.

Trying to keep his mind from turning off completely, Rick focused on opening Daryl’s trousers, actually making it on the second attempt. He pushed the fabric down as far as he could, and Daryl helped with taking it off completely, along with his underwear. Rick hummed out his appreciation, then tugged Daryl’s shirt up, grinning when he got an irritated huff in answer.   
“Ain’t ya bossy,” Daryl said again, but he got rid of the offending clothing, too, and soon, Rick could delight in the feeling of Daryl’s naked skin rubbing against him.

Having all that bare flesh on display, Rick didn’t really know where to touch first, so he let his hands move up and down Daryl’s sides, digging his fingers between the muscles. Fascinated, he traced their shapes with his fingertips, scratching his nails over Daryl’s ribs, then hooking his arms around Daryl’s middle. He was too distracted to pay attention to details, so small irregularities on Daryl’s back went completely unnoticed. And then, Daryl’s hand left his cock and he _pressed_ Rick bodily into the mattress, and _oh yes,_ that was absolutely fucking _perfect._

The friction created between them was enough to make Rick moan aloud, a mindless stream of _Daryl, Daryl, Daryl,_ circling his head over and over again. Daryl must have heard him somehow, or maybe he read Rick’s mind, because he started to move, canting his hips forward and lining their cocks together neatly. The slide got slick quickly, the both of them leaking and creating a right mess, and Rick was surprised to discover that he didn’t mind one bit. It felt so good to get filthy with Daryl like this that Rick just let himself go.

Back when he had been with Lori, they had boring, married sex, almost mechanical in its fashion. This here, with Daryl? That was a whole new level, even if all they did was grind against each other. There was a different kind of heat to it, something that sparked between them and spread all through Rick’s body, lighting up his nerve endings and making his muscles twitch. It was mind-blowing, how that simple contact was enough to switch off his brain and render him into a trembling ball of need.

He bucked up greedily into every move Daryl made, meeting him thrust for thrust, rubbing their lengths against one another. He let his hands wander, unable to keep them in one place, grabbing whatever flesh he could reach. On a whim, he splayed his fingers wide over Daryl’s ass and, going by the very enthusiastic moan he received, he wasn’t the only one who was slowly going crazy.

And then, Daryl sneaked one hand between their bellies, grabbed both their cocks in one hand and _squeezed them,_ and Rick couldn’t really stop himself. He was done just as Daryl started to jack them off, coming with a long, drawn-out moan, nails digging into Daryl’s skin. Panting, trying not to shake apart, Rick was dimly aware of Daryl tensing above him, his hips jerking erratically as he added to the mess between them.

Coming down from the orgasm-induced high took them a few long minutes, which were filled entirely with lazy kisses placed sloppily everywhere they could reach. Before Rick could actually make his limbs move, Daryl’s body had gone mostly boneless atop of him, pressing him down into the bed.   
“We should shower,” Rick mumbled out, still mostly focused on the way Daryl’s skin tasted.   
“Not sure I can move my feet,” Daryl grunted out, but he shifted to the side a bit and stretched next to Rick on the bed. The change of angles made Rick groan in displeasure, but he quickly found another spot to fixate on, and was soon very content to lick a slow trail over Daryl’s bicep.

“Ya sure ya want that shower?” Daryl asked, squinting at him. Rick shrugged, finally detaching himself from Daryl’s arm.   
“Mhm… in a bit,” Rick said, voice sleepy. Daryl was lying next to him, they were both sweaty and basking in the post-coital bliss… The shower could wait half an hour.

 

-&-

 

In the end, they had taken that shower about an hour later. It had been lazy and unhurried, a slow exploration of their bodies that had brought a surprising discovery of Daryl’s scars - scars which Rick had attentively tried to kiss away. The night had ended with them cuddling in the bed, and Rick was pleasantly surprised to wake up still wrapped in Daryl’s arms the next morning. Even Shane got to sleep with them, curling up in a ball at their feet.

“Mornin’,” Daryl gruffed out, sliding closer and kissing the first part of Rick he had within reach - which turned out to be Rick’s forearm. Rick tensed, and Daryl frowned, peeling his eyes open.   
“Hey,” Rick greeted, hissing when Daryl ducked his head again and licked the inside of his forearm curiously.   
“That a thing with ya?” He asked, gaze shifting from Rick’s hand to his face, which was definitely showing the beginnings of a blush.   
“Mhm…” Rick hummed, and Daryl was ready to go at it again and see what nibbling on the delicate skin would bring, but Rick shuffled away and sat up.   
“Stop that. I have to get up,” he grumbled, ruffling his hair.   
“What time do you have to be at the station?”   
“Eight o’clock…” Rick muttered, sighing. Daryl squinted at his watch - seven o’clock. Well, _shit._

“Alright, wanna meet after?” He prompted, sitting up, too. He leaned forward to place a small kiss on Rick’s shoulder, smirking when Rick shivered against him.   
“Mhm… I get out at six, I can pick you up from the store or something,” Rick proposed, mentally crossing his fingers for Daryl to say _yes._ They didn’t even get out of bed yet, and he already missed what they had in here. There was something about Daryl that made Rick feel at peace, something that made the world feel _right._   
“Sure,” Daryl said, wrapping one arm around Rick’s waist and laying a trail of kisses up his neck, drawing a small, breathy groan out of him. With his other hand, he patted Shane on the head, feeling him moving around the bed, before he jumped down on the floor and walked out of the room.

Before Daryl could make them both late, however, Shane was back. He whined, planting his ass in the doorway, thumping his paws against the woodboards. Daryl couldn’t stop his amused snort when he looked up at the dog - he had a green bowl gripped tightly between his teeth and was giving them both the biggest puppy-eyes Daryl had ever seen on a grown-up dog. Rick just groaned in exasperation.   
“Guess we better move,” Daryl huffed out on a laugh, finally detaching himself from Rick’s neck.   
“He’s gonna kill me one day,” Rick grumbled, getting up reluctantly.   
“Mhm… them deadly sweet eyes, man… That’s how ya catch the bad guys,” Daryl joked, following Rick, laughing when Shane overtook them in the corridor and almost crashed into the door frame with the bowl still in his mouth.

 

-&-

 

The next time Daryl saw Rick, it was a little after four in the afternoon. Genuinely surprised when he spotted that bow-legged gait in his pet shop so early, Daryl walked from behind the counter to meet him halfway.   
“Hey,” Daryl greeted, immediately seeing that something was wrong with Rick - he looked sad and way too tired for someone who didn’t finish his shift yet. “What’s up?”   
“I…” Rick paused, looking down at the floor. _Yeah, something was very wrong._ Daryl frowned, waiting, taking Rick in. His uniform was a bit dirty on the side, but there was nothing else out of ordinary, except for Rick’s messed-up curls.

“You close at six, right?” Rick asked, finally looking up at him, and Daryl’s heart squeezed seeing Rick’s haunted eyes.   
“Yeah.”   
“Can I…” Rick paused again, biting his lip, lowering his gaze to the floor again. “Forget it,” he mumbled, shaking his head a little.   
“What is it?”   
“Can I wait here?”

Rick voice was so unsure, so _small,_ Daryl was sure he was a second away from turning around and walking out.

_He couldn’t have that._

“Sure. Come ‘ere,” Daryl prompted, nodding. He stepped closer and placed one hand on Rick’s shoulder to give him a push in the direction of the counter, then steering him behind it. He sat Rick down on a chair that was standing there, then took another one for himself from a little supply room he had at the back of the shop.   
“Ya need somethin’?” He asked softly, mentally going through the shelves in his supply closet, trying to come up with something else than coffee and stale biscuits - he had a feeling Rick needed something gentler than a tarmac-black beverage.

But Rick just shook his head again, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, palms covering his face.   
“What happened?” Daryl frowned when Rick only sighed, then stayed silent for a few long minutes. It didn’t look good, but Daryl figured that he needed time to compose himself.   
“Do you know what 10-79 is?” Rick asked a good minute later. Daryl shook his head.   
“A police code?”   
“I was making rounds, I saw a suspicious car. It was all over the road, cutting people off and weaving… I stopped it, got the guys out.” Rick sighed again, and Daryl couldn’t help but think that he looked deflated. “Good guys, just on the wrong way in life. They had weed in their car, but they didn’t put up any resistance when I cuffed them and Michonne went over to check the vehicle. They consented to the search and all…”   
“Sounds rather good,” Daryl muttered. Rick nodded.

“Yeah. They were all good-natured about it. They joked and all… I guess they knew that they did wrong and got caught.”   
“So what happened?”

Daryl watched as Rick interlaced his fingers, wringing them until his knuckles turned white. He bit his lip, trying not to place his own hand on them.   
“Secondary accident,” Rick whispered after a beat of silence. “A guy driving a truck got distracted with us, swerved to the left and head-crashed into another car…”   
“Fuck…” Daryl cursed quietly. “How bad?”   
“Three dead on the scene,” Rick murmured, closing his eyes. “10-79, notify coroner.” He swallowed reflexively, wringing his fingers again, and this time, Daryl grabbed his hands gently and pried them apart. He wanted to take hold of Rick’s arms and try to calm him down somehow, but Rick surprised him. He leaned forward, fisting his hands in Daryl’s t-shirt, then tucked his face into Daryl’s neck.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl said quietly, one hand coming up to rub Rick’s back soothingly. He felt a few heaved-in breaths, before Rick started shaking slightly, so he pulled him into a full hug.   
“It’s okay,” Rick mumbled into his neck, still hanging on Daryl’s shirt.   
“Ya wanna get outta here?”   
“Don’t you close at six?” Rick asked back, pulling back slightly to look at him. Daryl shrugged.   
“‘M the _owner,_ nobody’s gonna have my ass fer that.”

Rick looked as if he tried to talk himself out of it, but he nodded finally.   
“Yeah, okay.”   
“Alright. Lemme lock this place up, an’ we can go,” Daryl said, standing up. “We can go to my place, if ya wanna?” He phrased it like a question, figuring that a change of surroundings would be good for Rick.   
“I… yeah. I’d like that,” he answered, polite as always. If it hadn’t been for the way his eyes still looked haunted, Daryl wouldn’t have been able to tell that something was out of norm. “We have to get Shane, though,” Rick muttered.   
“Sure. Ya can stay the night if ya want,” Daryl proposed, hoping Rick would say yes to that, too.

He didn’t get a verbal confirmation, but Rick’s nod was solid enough to make him smile warmly. They closed the shop and went to collect Shane from Rick’s house.

 

-&-

 

“That’s a first,” Daryl noted, pulling up beside Rick’s cruiser on his bike, getting off of it and digging around his pocket for his house keys. Rick frowned, getting out of the car and opening the back door to let Shane out.   
“What is?”   
“A police car outside _this_ house,” he said, shrugging. “Got a lotta that at my old place, but not ‘ere,” he explained, walking Rick to the entrance and unlocking the door. “Feel at home. The bathroom’s that way.” He pointed to a door at the end of a little corridor the house had.

Rick walked in, looking around curiously. The whole house was made of wood, from the floor to the roof. It looked like a very big hunting cabin on the outside, but it was quite homey inside - there were carpets everywhere, pillows and blankets thrown carelessly into different corners, and a big, comfortable-looking couch in the middle of the living space.   
“Sorry,” Daryl mumbled sheepishly, seeing Rick’s curious gaze. “Didn’t have time to clean up,” he said, nodding at one of the blankets that had been left bundled up on the couch.   
“No it’s… it’s really nice in here, Daryl,” Rick stated, meeting Daryl’s gaze, making sure that he got the meaning across. _He liked that place already._

Daryl nodded at him shyly, then called Shane to the kitchen. Rick could hear him pouring water and shaking a box of something that sounded like dry dog food. A happy bark followed, and Rick smiled, imagining Daryl feeding a very excited Shane.

_Feel at home._

Rick went over to the couch and plopped down on it. He looked at the blanket, trying hard not to just grab it and wrap himself up in it. After a small debate with himself, he settled on just propping his hand on it, absentmindedly brushing his fingers through the fluffy fabric. It was surprisingly soft, and Rick got lost in petting it, his mind going back to what had happened earlier that day.

Three people dead - one guy and two women… Kids, really, they were barely over 22. University friends, as evidenced by their IDs. The guy in the truck had a wife and a kid. _Three dead on the scene._

“Rick?” Daryl’s voice tore him out of his thoughts. “Ya okay?”   
“I don’t know,” he admitted. It was rare that he got this distraught by something that happened out on the road. Maybe it was because those deaths were so pointless?   
“What do ya need?” Daryl asked, suddenly on his knees in front of Rick. Daryl’s hands went to Rick’s thighs and rubbed up and down, a soothing caress he hoped would help. Rick shivered, then leaned down, bringing their mouths together and kissing him deeply.   
“Take me to bed,” he murmured against Daryl’s lips, then kissed him again, gasping when Daryl’s hands squeezed his thighs.   
“Ya sure?”   
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Make me forget,” Rick added, turning his head to the side and nibbling on Daryl’s neck.

The way Rick’s teeth scraped over his skin made liquid heat pool low in Daryl’s abdomen. He groaned and leaned back, then stood up and tugged Rick with him. They stumbled through Daryl’s house, slowly making their way to the back of it, where Daryl pushed a door open and dragged Rick into his bedroom.   
“Shane’s eatin’,” he grunted out, somehow managing to close the door and keep on kissing Rick at the same time, walking him backwards until Rick was sitting down on the mattress. Rick nodded, eyes glued to Daryl’s hands, as the man worked on taking off Rick’s boots and trousers. Wanting to help, feeling way too hot in his clothes, Rick started on his own shirt, tossing it carelessly aside when he was done, too distracted by the vision of Daryl in front of him.

Clad only in his boxers, Rick crawled backwards, until he was lying on the bed fully, his eyes still following Daryl. He licked his lips when he saw Daryl undressing quickly - this might have been the fastest striptease he had ever seen, but _god,_ was it _hot._   
“Come here,” he murmured, once Daryl was standing there in his underwear only. Reaching out a hand for Daryl to take, smiling when he did, Rick tugged him on the bed and started to kiss every inch of skin he had within reach. It was easy to get lost like that - the slow slide of his lips against delicate skin making Rick’s own body tingle in excitement. The memories from work started to fade away, pushed out of his mind by the warmth of flesh pressing against him, and soon, Rick’s focus was solely on Daryl’s heat and the little grunts that started to fall from his mouth.

They wriggled out of their underwear sometime later, soft cotton ending up pushed to the floor with a few absentminded kicks of their feet - they were too occupied with the friction created between them to pay too much attention to where their boxers landed.   
“Daryl,” Rick breathed between nips to Daryl’s lips, stealing one more sucking kiss before he leaned back, resting his head on the pillow.   
“Yeah?” Daryl asked, trying to follow Rick’s mouth, giving up when Rick tried to speak. He moved to attack Rick’s neck instead, letting his hands wander all over that lean body. He was drunk on Rick’s taste, getting dizzy with Rick’s scent, and he really wanted to feel that man fall apart in his arms.

“Daryl…” Rick prompted again, and finally, Daryl pulled away to look at him. Rick’s eyes were nearly black, his lips red and puffy from their kisses. He looked like the god’s most perfect creation, and Daryl couldn’t help but feel proud to be the one to cause the slight tremor that had taken residence in Rick’s body. _He did that._   
“Whadda ya want?” Daryl slurred out, frowning when Rick’s mouth opened, but no words came out.

Shaking his head minutely to clear it, Rick grabbed one of Daryl’s hands and steered it down his body, placing it on his ass and pressing a bit, hoping Daryl would get the message. Going by the way Daryl’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open with a silent _‘oh’,_ he did.   
“Ya sure?” He asked softly, careful even when his fingers tightened around a handful of Rick’s flesh.   
“Yeah…” Rick nodded emphatically, gasping when Daryl’s hand slid lower and one for his fingers brushed against his entrance.   
“Got somethin’ fer tha’?” Daryl asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly. Rick blushed furiously.   
“In the car…” He mumbled, biting his lip and fixing his gaze on Daryl’s collarbone.   
“Officer _very_ Friendly, ain’t ya?” Daryl joked, but Rick shook his head.   
“I… I bought it on my way to work…” He explained, his blush getting darker. He looked absolutely fuckable right now, a perfect mix of cute and sexy.

“So ya wanna go out there to get it?” Daryl teased, chuckling. Rick shook his head again.   
“Not really,” he looked pointedly down between them. They were both naked and hard, and getting out of bed now sounded like the most un-sexy thing he could think of. There was a fire inside him, a burning kind of heat that could be chased away only by Daryl, and Rick was positive he would let him fuck him dry if it came to that. “I don’t really care,” he added, closing his eyes.   
“Good thing I do,” Daryl countered, lifting Rick’s chin with one strong hand, tilting his head until Rick blinked his eyes open again. “Ain’t gonna hurt ya like that,” he murmured, stealing a kiss, then moving to the side.

He reached under the bed with one hand, pulling out something that sounded like a cardboard box, then rummaged through it. After a few seconds, he was back to kissing Rick, a mostly-empty bottle of lube clutched tightly between his fingers. Rick felt dizzy looking at it, the anticipation making his skin burn.   
“Don’t have condoms, tho,” Daryl mumbled, breaking away and panting into Rick’s mouth. Rick shook his head.   
“I’m clean. Got tested right after the divorce… haven’t been with anyone since then,” he explained, leaning in to lick a scorching hot trail up Daryl’s neck. The shuddering moan he received made him smile against Daryl’s ear.   
“‘M clean, too,” Daryl rasped back at him. He wanted to elaborate, feeling that it would be good to say that he had been tested right after Merle got locked up for drugs he had slipped Daryl a time or two.

Rick’s quiet demand of _“come on,”_ proved to be too much for Daryl to concentrate on formulating words, though. He groaned when Rick nibbled on the shell of his ear, hands shaky when they opened the bottle and squirted some lube on his fingers. It was easy then, to put one of them into Rick, sliding it slowly inside and pulling it out. The enthusiastic moan this action earned set fire to Daryl’s insides, and he repeated it, building up an easy rhythm.

In no time at all, he had Rick gasping out his name, his hands scrambling for purchase on the bed, as Daryl stretched him open and added a second finger. Rick’s body was so hot and tight around his digits, that Daryl was a little afraid that the fun would be embarrassingly quick. Thankfully, going by the puddle of precome on Rick’s stomach, he was on the same page here.   
“Come on,” Rick demanded again, grabbing Daryl’s arms and tugging him up urgently. Daryl frowned - he was aiming for three fingers inside Rick’s ass - but went anyway, getting a fiery kiss for a reward. Somehow, Rick managed to get a hold of the bottle and poured whatever was left of its contents over Daryl’s dick, spreading the slick with his hand.   
“Jesus,” Daryl breathed out, feeling the electric shock that went through him with the touch, his body starving for some contact at last. His hips bucked on their own accord, and Daryl was suspiciously close to losing his goddamn mind when Rick wrapped his legs around his waist and brought them closer.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out the next move, so Daryl lined up and pushed, sinking into Rick, muffling his own groan against Rick’s shoulder. _Tight._ Rick was so fucking _tight_ around him that Daryl almost pulled out right there and then. Gulping in air that was suddenly scarce in the room, Daryl raised his head to look at Rick, his own heart skipping a beat when he noticed the wince on Rick’s handsome face.   
“Wanna stop?” He asked tentatively, one hand coming up to brush through those wild curls. Daryl could get lost in them, threading his fingers between the locks until the end of the world. Rick shook his head minutely, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.   
“No,” he murmured shakily. “Just… gimme a moment, okay?”   
“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, ducking down and trailing soft kisses down Rick’s shoulder.

After a full minute of deep breaths, Rick’s body started to relax around him, his muscles gradually unclenching, until Rick was lying almost boneless beneath him. Daryl moved experimentally, just a small shove of his hips, testing out the waters. Rick moaned aloud at that, both hands coming to rest around Daryl’s shoulders.   
“Yes,” he hissed right into Daryl’s ear, prompting him to start moving.

It was slow and gentle at first, and Daryl would be content to continue like that, until they were both too fucked out to keep on going, but at one point, Rick scraped his nails down his back and mewled, actually fucking _mewled,_ and Daryl couldn’t help the faster pace his body kicked into. He thrust into Rick, rocking his hips in aggressively, somehow hitting all the right spots, as evidenced by a beautiful arch of Rick’s back.   
“I’m gonna…” Rick wheezed, worming one hand between them, grabbing his cock and jerking himself off with short, quick strokes. Daryl was almost sure he could last through it, but when Rick’s head fell back and he gave a short shout of his name, Daryl was suddenly on the edge, his whole body on fire.

He couldn’t tell who came first and who followed - not that it mattered. He had Rick shaking apart underneath him, Rick’s whole body quaking and writhing on the bed as Daryl gave one last thrust, shivering with aftershocks, his face tucked against Rick’s neck. For a moment, the only thing that existed was the two of them, their rapid breaths and clinging hands. Coming down took them a few long minutes, but when they did, it was to franting thumping against the door, accompanied by whines and alarmed barking, and Rick groaned in exasperation, hiding his face in Daryl’s shoulder.

“Relax, he’s not gonna kick it in,” Daryl rasped, giving Rick’s neck one more kiss, before he pulled away. His cock slipped out, and Rick grimaced at the feeling. “Ya okay?”   
“Mhm,” he nodded and stretched. He gave a yawn, then turned on his side, curling up against Daryl. There was more of the insistent scratching and whining, and Rick closed his eyes, trying to squish the urge to tug a pillow over his head. “Should let him in,” he mumbled quietly, hearing Daryl’s amused snort.   
“Ya sure?”   
“Mhm… gonna scratch your door to hell and back,” Rick shrugged with a sigh.

He wasn’t pleased when Daryl moved away a moment later, getting out of bed and letting Shane in. The dog walked inside quickly, panting excitedly and shuffling his paws on the floor.

DARYL’S HOUSE IS AWESOME! BUT I WAS WORRIED! YOU SHOUTED RICK! YOU NEVER SHOUT AT THE BAD GUYS ANYMORE! AND DARYL IS A GOOD GUY ANYWAY! WHY DID YOU SHOUT?

When a wet nose wormed its way under Rick’s shin, he tried to move away with a grunt, which only resulted in vacating a spot on the bed. Shane took it as an invitation and installed himself right next to Rick’s legs.   
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rick asked, looking down at him with raised eyebrows.

YOU WERE CUDDLING! I WANT A CUDDLE TOO! CUDDLE ME RICK!

Rick ignored Shane’s puppy-eyed stare in favor of Daryl climbing back into bed and covering them both with a soft comforter. With Shane-induced irritation, Rick didn’t really feel sleepy anymore, but he wouldn’t say no to Daryl’s warm embrace. Especially when he got a kiss or two along with it.

 

-&-

 

They relocated to Daryl’s couch around seven in the evening - lazily tugging on two sets of Daryl’s sweats to keep the chill of the night away. The t-shirt Daryl let him borrow was at least two sizes too big for Rick, but it was okay, because it gave Daryl plenty of space to slip his hands between Rick’s chest and the soft, washed-out material.

They ate a pizza sloppily, getting distracted with kisses and letting Shane steal two slices. He was being a good boy for once and not trying to wedge his seventy pounds worth of fur between them, so Rick reckoned it was okay - there was no way they would eat the whole thing anyway.

“What time do ya start tomorrow?” Daryl asked, chewing the last of his slice.   
“I’m off work for the next week,” Rick mumbled around a mouthful of cheese. “Got two days off after the accident. Took the rest from my accumulated paid leave… got enough of that to retire a year earlier, I guess,” he shrugged, wiping ketchup from the corner of his mouth.   
“Ya a workaholic or somethin’?” Rick could hear the frown in Daryl’s voice.   
“No. I just… before the divorce I tried to work as much as I could to provide for my family… after, I just did it to get away, I guess.” He explained, shrugging. “There must be enough to send me on paid vacation for a year or so,” he joked, watching absentmindedly as Shane rolled around on Daryl’s carpet, a happy, canine smile stretching his mouth.

Daryl took a breath as if he wanted to say something, but just then, Rick’s phone rang. He dragged himself away to find his trousers and pick it up.   
“Grimes.” He rasped out without checking the number, coming back to the couch and sitting between Daryl’s thighs. He leaned back while listening, one hand coming to rest on Daryl’s thigh automatically.   
_“Rick. Morgan here.”_   
“Good evening, captain. Everything alright?”   
_“No. We have a case of missing girls… remember Lizzie and Mika from last week?”_

“Vaguely, sir. It’s not my department, after all,” Rick answered, frowning.   
_“I know. That’s why I’m calling you. I will send all the details to your email address. I know it’s your week off, and I respect that… but another girl is missing, and we may need Shane to come back to work on this case.”_ Morgan explained, a hopeful tone to his voice.   
“Won’t that cause a problem, sir? I mean, he’s retired…”   
_“Rick. I am willing to create a post specifically for him, you hear me? We can make him an auxiliary officer or something. To be honest, I don’t really care. Three girls are missing now, and our dogs lose the trail in the woods every time we try to track them. We need Shane.”_   
“Okay,” Rick said, nodding to himself. “We can come to the station tomorrow.”   
_“Thank you.”_  
“I can’t promise he’ll be able to help, though. You know how lazy he was the last time when it came to tracking,” Rick warned, smirking.   
_“Every little helps, Rick…”_  
“Alright. See you tomorrow, sir.”

“What was that?” Daryl asked when Rick hung up.   
_“Who,”_ Rick muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That was Morgan Jones, my captain, and he wants me to come to work tomorrow.”   
“Dontcha have a week off?” Daryl asked, confused.   
“They’ll probably shift it a day or two, depending on the case.”   
“What case?”   
“Missing girls. Apparently now it’s _three_ and we have a maniac on our hands,” Rick said, twisting around a bit and nuzzling against Daryl’s collarbone. “He’ll send me the details via email. Seems like the dogs can’t track him.”   
“That’s why he needs Shane?”   
“Yeah.” Rick nodded, sighing happily when Daryl wrapped him in a hug.

They spent another lazy hour just sitting on the couch and watching some mind-numbing TV, until Rick finally asked Daryl if he could use his laptop. He logged into his account - _“a police email on mah laptop, that’s a first!”_ \- and read what the captain had sent him. Full documentation on Lizzie and Mika, two sisters that had been missing for eight days. There was also another attachment, a recently composed doc on Sophia Peletier. Rick opened it and started reading, dragging his gaze away only after Daryl bumped his shoulder with a can of cold beer.

“What’s that?” He asked, peering over Rick’s shoulder.   
“Uh… details on Sophia Peletier’s case,” Rick mumbled, shrugging. He wanted to get back to scanning the text, trying to find anything that could connect those three girls together, when he felt Daryl going eerily quiet next to him. “What is it?” Rick asked, turning to him with a frown. Daryl’s eyes were glued to the screen.   
“Sophia… _holy fuck.”_   
“Daryl?” Rick asked, confused, when Daryl walked away and picked up his phone. He dialed a number and waited anxiously for whoever was on the other end to pick up.

“Carol?” Daryl gruffed out, walking back and squinting at the screen. Rick didn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but Daryl’s face had gone through every possible emotion.

“When was it?” Daryl asked, closing his eyes briefly, then opening them again. “What? No… Where… Oh. So she didn’t… _Fuck, Carol…_ ‘M so sorry… Yeah. We’ll be there tomorrow.” He narrowed his eyes at Rick. “Yeah, ‘m gonna be there. Yeah, yeah, yeah… Hang in there, ‘kay?”

After the call was over, Rick cleared his throat quietly.   
“I take it you know her?” He half-asked, half-stated. Daryl gave a jerky nod.   
“‘S my friend’s daughter. She went to her friend’s b-day party… Carol was s’pposed to pick ‘er up at the crossroads, but she disappeared somewhere on ‘er way there…” Daryl started pacing around, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.   
“You gonna go with us tomorrow?” Rick asked, eyeing him. He looked like a pent-up ball of energy, and that wasn’t good for someone who was usually so stoic and all zen-like.   
“Yeah… that a problem?” Daryl asked, still pacing. Rick shook his head.   
“No. I think we can use someone who knows her - may get in handy if we find her…” He didn’t have to add the _alive._   
“I can track,” Daryl muttered, brushing one hand over his face.   
“Hm?”   
“I can track. Spent half of my childhood in t’ woods… Huntin’ an’ stuff,” he explained, shrugging.   
“Yeah, that may be handy.” Rick nodded. If their K-9 units were losing tracks, they may use Daryl’s help.

“Fuck!” Daryl shouted suddenly, spinning around and hitting the wall to his right with his fist. Rick jumped up, walking to him before his mind had even registered what he was doing. He grabbed Daryl’s hand, preventing him from smashing it against the wood again, then turned him around forcibly. He ducked his head to try and catch Daryl’s gaze, frowning when he saw tears glistening in Daryl’s eyes.   
“We’ll find her,” Rick tried to soothe him, gritting his teeth when Daryl just shook his head miserably.   
“Shoulda been there…”   
“Don’t be stupid, Daryl - ”   
“No. Rick, I knew she was goin’ to that party. She asked me to go with her. Told her ‘t was a kids party an’ that I wouldn't have been welcome there…” he rasped out, biting his lip at the end.   
“You didn’t know that would happen,” Rick tried again, stepping closer, practically pressing his body to Daryl’s.

He could feel the raw energy vibrating around this man, thrumming through both of their bodies in such a close proximity. He reached up with one hand and tugged Daryl’s lip from between his tightly clenched teeth, swiping his thumb over it briefly.   
“Come on. We’ll see tomorrow. Beating yourself up now ain’t gonna help,” Rick whispered tentatively, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Daryl nodded after a long moment.   
“Shane as good as ya said?” Daryl asked after a moment, and Rick smiled softly.   
“Better. And I think he’ll be happy to get back to work after such a long break. Especially if you’ll be there,” Rick said, feeling Daryl relax a bit against him.   
“Hope yer right.”   
“You’ll see. But that’s for tomorrow,” Rick reminded him, and Daryl nodded reluctantly. “Okay. How about you come back and sit with me on that couch, huh?”

Daryl eyed him warily, frowning in confusion.   
“Not sure I can watch anythin’, Rick,” he gruffed out, ducking his head again.   
“Didn’t say that, did I? Just come with me,” Rick prompted, using the hold on Daryl’s hand to tug him back on the couch and sit him down. Once he had Daryl positioned sideways, Daryl’s back resting against the armrest, head pillowed on a cushion thrown against the wall behind, he crawled over him and lied down, too, fitting himself between Daryl’s thighs.   
“Rick?”   
“Shhh… Like that, okay?” Rick asked carefully, twisting a bit so he could settle down with his chest against Daryl’s stomach, and his arms around Daryl’s waist.   
“Mhm…” Daryl hummed, still sounding unsure, but his own hands came to rest on Rick’s shoulders and, after a while, Rick could feel him relax. He smiled against Daryl’s chest and nuzzled into it, sighing.

He must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, Shane was licking insistently at his ankle, and Daryl was whispering something.   
“Stop that, buddy, done tellin’ ya. He’s a nice guy, ya ain’t gotta piss ‘im off like that. C’mon, be a good boy, huh? Let ‘im sleep.”

Rick smiled slightly hearing that, kicking reflexively when Shane’s tongue dragged over the sole of his foot. He must have hit his mark because Shane walked away.   
“Should have woken me,” Rick mumbled, smiling when he heard Daryl scoff.   
“Yer not that heavy,” he gruffed out, one hand finding its way into Rick’s hair, fingers threading through the curls.   
“We should move… or something,” Rick murmured, not really making any attempts at changing his current location.   
“Can stay like this… if yer comfy.” Daryl shrugged the best he could with Rick’s weight pinning him down.   
“Don’t tempt me,” Rick teased, grinning.

In the end, they went to get a decent night’s sleep in Daryl’s bed. Surprisingly, Shane was content to sleep on the couch this time, and it did wonders for their make-out session in the morning.

 

-&-

 

“So this is _the biker,_ huh?” Michonne asked Rick as soon as they stepped out of their car. There was a glimmer in her eyes, and Rick bit his lip, nodding.   
“Yeah, this is Daryl, he’ll help us.”   
“Nice to finally meet the cause for Rick’s daydreaming.” She shook Daryl’s hand in greeting, grinning so wide Rick was afraid her face would get stuck like this.   
“Hi,” Daryl answered, eyeing Rick curiously.

RICK! RICK LEMME OUT! RICK! DARYL! I WANT OUT! RICK!!!!

Shane was buzzing excitedly in the backseat, pawing at the door so hard the whole car shook. Rick rolled his eyes and opened the door.   
“Behave,” he muttered, letting him out. Shane jumped on the grass, walking towards Michonne who smiled warmly seeing him.   
“Hey buddy.”

MICH! RICK I FOUND MICH! LOOK! HI MICH! CAN I GET A PAT? PLEASE! MICH!

Michonne laughed merrily when Shane stood on his hind legs and attempted to lick all over her face.   
“Awwww…. I missed you, too,” she said, scratching behind his ear and patting him on the head, until he settled down, wagging his tail happily. “Looking sharp, too,” she commented, taking in Shane’s old, K-9 vest. Somehow, while wearing it, Shane looked a lot more distinguished… he acted like that, too, opposed to his usual, dorky self. After he was done trying to slobber all over Michonne’s forearm, he sat down and waited for the commands.

“Okay, where do we start?” Rick asked, clipping on Shane’s leash.   
“The dogs usually get lost by the creek. We should go up there and try to look around a bit, maybe Shane will be able to find something.” Michonne explained.   
“Alright.” Rick nodded, patting Shane’s head.

With Shane in his K-9 gear, and him in his uniform, Rick felt like in the old days, the two of them making the best team in the world. Daryl must have appreciated the view, too, because he wasn’t even trying to conceal his fiery glances. Rick blushed when they eyes met and averted his gaze, smiling sheepishly.   
“Oh you two lovebirds,” Michonne laughed again, eyeing first Rick then Daryl.   
“Shut up,” Rick mumbled, but there was no bite in his voice.   
“Hey, I’m just happy you found each other.” She shrugged, turning to Daryl. “He was moping constantly when he was alone. And when Shane got shot, it only got worse,” she explained, pointing her thumb at Rick.

“Alright, enough. We going or what?” Rick asked, glaring at her. She giggled, then shook her head.   
“We’re waiting for another unit.”   
“Oh?”   
“Yeah. Tyreese and Sasha are on their way, gonna help us.”   
“Okay… Oh, Michonne? Do you have that item of clothing we were talking about?”   
“Got you one better,” she said, grinning. She went to her cruiser and took out a foil bag with a plushie unicorn inside. She handed it to Rick.

“Her favorite, she slept with it and all,” she muttered, turning serious. Rick turned it around in his hands. It was white and had a rainbow-colored mane. He glanced at Daryl, feeling him go eerily still. “You okay?”   
“I…” Daryl shook his head, biting his thumbnail for a moment. “I gave it to ‘er,” he explained. He looked sad, Rick realized. It was surprising - Daryl was good at hiding his emotions usually - that much Rick had learned already.   
“We’ll find her,” he tried, hoping he sounded surer than he felt. Daryl gave him a curt nod at that.

Rick was trying to find something to say that would be comforting, but when he was opening his mouth again, Tyreese and Sasha pulled up next to them.   
“Hi guys!” Sasha greeted, getting out. Rick smiled and waved at her.   
“Hey.”   
“Ready to work?” She asked, looking at Shane. “Hi sweetie!”

SASH! TY! RICK LOOK!!! THE GUYS ARE HERE!!! AWESOME!!!

“Yeah,” Rick said, nodding.   
“Okay… oh, you must be Daryl!” Sasha walked over to him, but not before she gave Shane a few solid rubs.   
“Yeah,” Daryl gruffed out, nodding.   
“Nice to meet you. I’m Sasha and this is Tyreese. We’re gonna be working together.”   
“Alright.” Daryl nodded again, eyeing the both of them. Then he shrugged and looked at Rick. “We good to go?”   
“Lead the way,” Rick said, gripping Shane’s leash.

He took out the plushie and showed it to him.   
“Search,” he commanded, letting Shane sniff it thoroughly. “Shane, _search!”_

A few seconds later, Shane was walking around with his nose close to the ground, leading them all into the forest. Daryl couldn’t stop staring at Rick, looking all authoritative in his sheriff’s uniform, with that ridiculous hat and the heavy gun belt on, moving between the trees in perfect sync with his four-legged partner. They must have made quite a team before Shane had been shot.

Daryl shook his head. _Focus._

They paused near a tree, and Shane walked around a bit, trying to point out the right direction. Everyone waited patiently, not daring to interrupt.

RICK! IMMA BIT LOST… RICK? HELP?

Shane sat down, looking at Rick with his big eyes, one paw coming up to scratch gently at Rick’s shin.   
“Yeah, hang on,” Rick said, turning to Michonne. “Give me the unicorn.” He took the plushie and presented it to Shane, who sniffed at it in concentration.

I THINK… I THINK… RICK! I GOT IT! THIS WAY!!!

And they were off again, walking through the woods, stopping every fifty yards or so to let Shane sniff around, before they were tugged in the right direction again.

It took them about half an hour to find the creek, and by that time, they were deep in the forest. Shane paused just before reaching water, nosing around and looking lost. Rick sighed.   
“I guess the stream is too much for the dog,” he muttered, patting Shane. “You did good, buddy.”

I’M SORRY, RICK! AM CONFUSED HERE… SORRY!

“Lemme try, huh?” Daryl gruffed out and walked closer to the creek. Rick nodded, waiting with Shane at his leg, watching avidly as Daryl walked to the left, then to the right. “How many times y’all been ‘ere?” He asked finally, looking up at them. Michonne frowned.   
“There were four units, and they were here about five times with different dogs,” she explained.   
“Figures… damn stampede,” Daryl muttered, coming to a stop near Shane. “Here,” he said, pointing to the ground. “There’s a footprint in ‘ere. T’ rest of ‘em got stomped over by y’all.”   
“That’s not really helping,” Sasha pointed out, and Daryl shrugged.   
“Gimme a minute.”

He walked along the creek, then jumped in unexpectedly, looking at the opposite shore. The water was shallow, reaching only as high as Daryl’s knees in the deepest place, but Rick couldn’t help himself when his thoughts started to go south.

 _Daryl looked dangerous._ He looked like that type of hunter the apocalyptic movies always made into heroes. Looking left and right, threading through the water carefully, he was so in tune with everything around him that Rick wouldn’t be surprised if Daryl had just plunged his hand into the stream and fished out a salmon or something. He looked competent, _predatory,_ and Rick had to admit it was a huge turn on. _He had to get Daryl to go camping someh…_

_Focus!_

“Over here!” Daryl shouted at them, still ankle-deep in the creek, about fifty yards from their initial position. They all went through the water, Michonne grinning at Rick’s displeased expression when his cowboy boots got soaked in it.   
“What did you find?” Sasha asked, followed by Tyreese.   
“Here, see?” Daryl pointed at something on the ground, and they all looked down, wearing matching, confused frowns.   
“I don’t see shit,” Michonne admitted, and Rick shrugged.   
“Me neither.”   
“Oh for god’s sake…” Daryl muttered, turning to Shane. He stuck his hand out to Rick at the same time, prompting him without words to hand him the plushie unicorn.

After Rick gave it to him, and Shane sniffed it all over again, they were all moving forward, deeper into the woods.

HERE! YES RICK! DARYL FOUND IT! I CAN SEARCH NOW!!!! COME ON GUYS!!! THIS WAY!!!

Shane led them weaving through the trees for another mile or so. In the beginning, the bushes were sparse, but they got progressively denser the deeper in they went, until suddenly the forest gave way to a little clearing. There was a big barn attached to a small house standing in the middle of it, and they all paused seeing it. Shane yipped at them, trying to tear himself from Rick’s grasp.   
“Stay!” Rick commanded, looking ahead. “You think it’s deserted?” He asked Michonne, who shrugged.   
“Better safe than sorry,” she said, checking her gun. Daryl shook his head, standing next to her.   
“Someone lives ‘ere. There’s mounds everywhere,” he pointed out, nodding at the grass. “Moles, probably. The ones near the barn have been stepped on, but the earth is still fresh. It rained here yesterday…”   
“Damn, he’s good,” Michonne said with a smile, elbowing Rick gently.   
“Yes, he is.” Rick answered with a grin. “Alright. Ty and Sasha, you walk from the back, cover us. Me and Michonne are gonna go up front. Daryl, wait here.”   
“Like _hell!”_ Daryl scoffed, glaring at Rick. “‘M coming with ya.”

Rick wanted to say that it was a bad idea, wanted to point out that there were probably weapons somewhere on that property, but one look from Daryl told him to shut up.   
“Okay. Keep behind us and duck if things go south,” Rick muttered with a sigh. “Ready?”   
“Yeah.” Sasha nodded. “Give us a moment to circle the house.”   
“You got it.” Rick nodded at them, then checked his Colt.

 

-&-

 

“Sheriff’s Office! Come out!” Rick shouted, standing about fifty yards away from the house. Shane was standing at his side, mouth open, flashing his teeth dangerously at whoever was walking behind the door. “Come out with your hands raised!”   
“I don’t think he’s willing to talk to us,” Michonne whispered, one hand placed on the holster. Rick sighed.   
“Sheriff’s Office! Come out now!”

By some miracle, the door finally opened, and a man stepped out. He was in his late thirties, had a black patch over his right eye and was flashing a very fake smile in their direction.   
“Hands were I can see ‘em!” Rick shouted, yanking Shane back when he started to pull at the leash.   
“What’s the commotion, officers?” The man asked, raising his hands in the air. He didn’t stop grinning, and it really rubbed Rick the wrong way. Making sure Daryl was behind them, Rick moved forward a bit.   
“Step away from the door!” He commanded. The man did so, walking closer to them, hands still in the air. “Got any weapons on you, sir?”   
“No.”   
“Mind if we check?” Michonne asked, and the man shrugged.   
“Go ahead.”

He reminded Rick of politicians - sleazy and lying, putting on fake smiles to please the press and doing unspeakable things behind everyone’s backs. He watched him closely while Michonne stepped forward to pat him down.   
“Don’t try anything stupid or I’ll send the dog,” Rick warned, giving Shane’s leash a yank. Shane barked angrily, his paws thumping on the ground.   
“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” The man asked, showing his teeth.   
“What a jerk,” Daryl whispered behind him, only loud enough for Rick to hear.

“He’s clear,” Michonne announced, stepping back. She holstered her gun, but kept the safety off, just in case.   
“What’s your name?” Rick asked, eyeing the guy carefully.   
“Philip Blake… and you are...?”   
“Deputy Rick Grimes, and this is my partner, Deputy Michonne Harrison,” Rick rattled off, eyeing the man suspiciously.   
“We have a valid suspicion that you may be involved in a crime, Mr. Blake,” Michonne added.   
“Me? In a _crime?”_ Philip’s smile got even bigger, if it was even possible. _“Please,_ officers, let’s not joke like this.”   
“Mind if we take a look around your house, then?” Rick asked, and Philip opened his arms wide.   
“By all means, go on.”

Rick nodded, gripping Shane’s leash tighter.   
“You wait here, alright?” Rick addressed the man, then turned to Michonne.   
“Mich?”   
“Got it,” she said, nodding at him. She would stay outside and keep tabs on their suspect, while Rick and Shane took a look around his house.   
“Any weapons inside?”   
“No.”   
“Anyone else in there?”   
“No.” Philip shook his head calmly.   
“Okay. Stay here.”

WE GO RICK? WE GO?!

Shane jumped up, then trotted forward, almost tugging Rick behind him. They walked inside carefully, mindful of their surroundings. The house seemed quiet, dark and gloomy, but - thankfully - deserted. They moved from room to room, searching the place thoroughly.

SHE’S IN HERE RICK! I CAN SMELL HER! IN HERE! SOMEWHERE HERE! RICK!!!

Every time Shane scratched at something, Rick would check it out - the chair, the sofa, the table in the kitchen… Nothing. Not a trace of the girls. But Shane was insistent, and protested loudly when Rick tried to drag him away from each of the spots.   
“Come on, buddy, there’s nothing here,” Rick whispered, taking his hat off and brushing his fingers through his hair in frustration.

SHE’S HERE RICK!!! I CAN SMELL HER!!!

Rick raised an eyebrow when Shane just kept on scratching at the carpet. Something was up, Shane’s sense of smell couldn’t be off like that. He put his hat on again and tugged on the leash. There was only one place he hadn’t checked yet...  
“Alright, let’s go,” he prompted, leaning down to pat Shane. “Good boy!”

YES! IMMA GOOD BOI! RICK! I FOUND HER AND SHE’S HERE! IMMA GOOD BOI!!!

“What dark secrets did you find, officer?” Philip asked, as soon as they stepped out. Rick ignored him and went to the side, walking to the barn. Shane got more excited with every step, until they were standing right in front of the massive door, Shane’s paws scratching against it with a single-minded intent to get inside. Rick turned around to ask for permission to search the barn, too, when he saw Michonne scuffling with the guy.

What happened next was so quick, Rick would have troubles remembering it afterwards.

Knowing that he couldn’t send Shane at them - he could bite Michonne by accident - Rick told him to stay. It wasn’t difficult, Shane was too busy trying to scratch his way through the door anyway.   
“Stop fighting,” Rick shouted at Philip, stepping closer. Michonne managed to unbalance their suspect, and he went down with a growl. Rick lunged forward, only to get a kick in his knee for the trouble. The guy rolled Michonne over, then jumped back suddenly, crawling to the side of the house where an old, wooden barrel was located. Before Rick could get to him, Philip tore the lid off of it and plunged his hand inside, fishing out a shotgun. In a heartbeat, the gun was pointed at Rick, a hard expression overcoming Philip’s features.   
“Back away!” He shouted, still aiming at Rick.

In the background, Rick could see Michonne scrambling up, getting her gun out of the holster and leveling it at Philip. Rick raised his hands up in a placating gesture - he knew that Sasha and Tyreese had Philip in their crosshairs already, he could see the two silhouettes peeking from behind the side of the building, weapons in hands.  
“Come on man, you don’t wanna do this,” Rick spoke calmly. From the corner of his eye, Rick could see Daryl standing to the side, closer to Shane. “Put the gun down and let’s talk!”

Philip looked like he was thinking about the offer. Then, his eyes went to Shane, still scratching and barking at the door. In a blink of an eye, Philip turned and pointed the shotgun at the dog, and Rick saw _red._

He jumped forward on instinct, barreling into Philip and sending them both falling back. The gun fired, the crack of the shot ringing in the silence around them, and Rick only had half a second of hesitation, before he punched the man, _hard._ He didn’t stop after one hit, though, not until someone dragged him away by his waist.   
“He’s down, man, leave it,” Tyreese spoke over Rick’s irritated growl, tugging him backwards. Rick’s hands flailed wildly, he wasn’t done beating that son of a bitch, but Daryl’s gruffy voice cut through the red haze in his mind finally.   
“Rick! Stop it!”

Jerking his head up, Rick saw Daryl and Michonne forcing their way into the barn. Sasha was cuffing a very much unconscious Philip, and Tyreese was still standing behind him with his arms around Rick’s waist.   
“I’m fine,” Rick mumbled, struggling, finally tearing himself away. By the time he did, Michonne and Daryl had managed to get the door open. Rick walked over there quickly, noticing Shane half-sitting, half-lying on the ground, his eyes following Rick. Something was off about the way he didn’t move from his spot, but Rick ignored it in favor of backing Michonne up in the barn.

He got his Colt out and pointed it at the dark entrance, slightly fearing what they would find inside. Usually, when kids disappeared and dogs dragged the police to such a place, there were corpses involved. Rick wasn’t sure he could stomach that. Sighing, he stepped forward, intent on checking the insides, when there was a small noise coming from the barn. Rick frowned, raising his hand in a gesture that said “wait”. Michonne nodded and turned to look at the entrance.

“Come out with your hands raised!” Rick shouted, cocking his Colt. He froze when something moved in the darkness inside. A few seconds later a small girl, maybe ten or eleven, was stepping over the threshold hesitatingly, one hand raised to shield her eyes from the glaring sun.   
“Sophia!” Daryl called from behind them, and the girl paused, before she ran forward, throwing herself into Daryl’s arms. Rick followed her with his eyes wide and his mouth opened in surprise.

_Not corpses, after all._

Feeling a ton lighter, Rick went inside, letting out a breath he didn’t think he was holding when he spotted the two other girls - Mika and Lizzie - sitting in one of the corners, curled up and frightened. After a perfunctory look around that brought nobody else hiding anywhere, Rick holstered his Colt and went over to the girls, crouching down in front of them.   
“Hey,” he greeted, smiling, trying to stay calm, even if everything in him danced with happiness at finding the girls. “I’m Rick, and I’m a policeman. We’ll take you home, alright?” He prompted, stretching one hand out for the girls to take. The taller one stood up with a nod, then took his hand. She grabbed her sister with the other and, with a determined expression on her face, let herself be guided out of the barn.

Rick’s smile must have been blinding when he stepped out of the barn. Michonne was at his side in an instant, looking the girls over and confirming their names, calling the station and letting them know where they were. Feeling happier than he had in a long time, Rick looked at Daryl, grinning even harder when he spotted Sophia’s hands wrapped tightly around his waist.

But Daryl wasn’t smiling. His eyes looked troubled, and there was a grim set to his jaw. Rick frowned, following his line of sight, spotting Sasha kneeling next to Shane.   
“Rick…” she said, sounding way too worried for someone who had just rescued three kids from the hands of a madman. Rick walked to her, steps faltering when she raised one hand up, fingers glistening and red… _so red._

_No. Fuck, no!_

Rick stopped only when he was right next to Shane, getting on his knees next to his four-legged partner, frantic hands turning him around gently. He winced at the whine Shane gave, then watched in horror as Shane’s left side was revealed, his fur a lot darker than it should be, damp and clumped with blood.   
“No, no, no, no…” Rick mumbled, over and over, shaky fingers running over Shane’s fur, trying to find the wound.   
“Rick.” Daryl was next to him in an instant, stilling his wandering hands, shaking him slightly.   
“We have to…” Rick started, trailing off when he spotted a fresh trickle of blood on Shane’s hind leg. He swallowed heavily, one hand going to Shane’s head and scratching behind the ear affectionately. He didn’t know if it was to calm Shane or himself down - it didn’t work anyway. Shane was still whining quietly, and Rick felt ready to fall apart.

“Get him some help,” Sasha said, ducking her head to catch Rick’s gaze.   
“The station said they’ll be here in half an hour,” Michonne said, suddenly close. Daryl shook his head.   
“In half an hour we’ll be by the cars already,” he gruffed out. Sasha nodded.   
“Go,” she prompted. “We’ll stay with Tyreese and keep tabs on that fucker and on the girls. We’ll wait for the others, then deal with the rest. Go.”   
“I’ll drive you,” Michonne butted in.   
“Okay,” Rick mumbled out finally.

He lifted Shane on shaky hands and looked at Daryl, who just nodded at him, then led the way into the forest. It was one of the longest treks of Rick’s life.

 

-&-

 

It turned out that Daryl’s skills had been a godsend - he managed to find them a path that shortened their walk considerably, and soon enough, they were sitting in the cruiser, Shane lying across their knees, with Michonne driving them at high speed to Hershel’s clinic.

“What happened?” The vet said instead of greeting, frowning when he noticed Shane clutched tightly to Rick’s chest - he had refused to be changed by either, Daryl or Michonne all throughout their trek through the forest, and kept refusing it now, even if his arms burned from Shane’s weight.   
“Shotgun.” Daryl stated, holding the door open for Rick and Michonne, then getting in himself. Hershel led them through a long corridor, before he paused at one of the doors, opening it and revealing an operating table.   
“Put him down here,” he commanded, then called over one of the nurses. Later, Daryl learned that it was his daughter, Beth.

They were all shooed away and told to stay in the waiting room. Rick was glad that Daryl hooked an arm around his waist while they made their way there - he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t stumble and fall down.

Three hours. It took three hours of Rick getting up only to sit down again, of his frantic eyes scanning the room until they settled on Daryl and closed briefly, only to do it all over again. Three hours of Rick shaking apart in his arms even if he tried not to show it, breaking into pieces with a sob and quieting down again. Three hours, during which Michonne had left them at Daryl’s insistence - she had more important things to do back at the scene.

Three hours, and Hershel finally walked out, smiling slightly, placing his hand on Rick’s shoulder in a fatherly manner.   
“He’s gonna be alright, son,” he said softly, his hand tightening when Rick swayed dangerously. Daryl helped to sit him down, one hand coming to rest on Rick’s back, rubbing soothing circles into the tight muscles.   
“How bad is it?” Daryl asked, needing the details in case Rick started to drift away into his head. He already had that haunted look to him, eyes unfocused and fingers twitching where they were dangling between his knees.   
“A few pellets caught his leg. Nothing life-threatening, but it caused some serious bleeding. He’s gonna need time to recover, so he’s definitely staying in for a few days.” Hershel explained. “You should take him home,” he added, nodding at Rick, who shook his head. Daryl frowned, seeing Rick’s tightly closed eyes, then turned back to Hershel.   
“Can we wait till he wakes up?”

There was a bit of silence, during which Hershel checked his watch and made some calculations in his head.   
“He should be waking up in an hour or so… you can stay here or wait outside,” he proposed gently. “There’s a terrace on the left, it’s quiet there. I’ll find you when he wakes up.”   
“Thanks.” Daryl nodded at him, turning to Rick again. “C’mon, let’s get some fresh air,” Daryl said, hoping to get Rick away from the antiseptic smell of the sanitizers that permeated the air inside the clinic.   
“You go, I’ll stay,” Rick mumbled out, finally opening his eyes and staring at his feet.   
“Nah. I need a smoke an’ ya need a breather,” Daryl prompted.

With a resigned sigh, Rick stood up, then went to the door mechanically, opening it and stepping outside with Daryl following him closely.

 

-&-

 

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?” Daryl asked, threading his fingers gently through Rick’s hair. They were on a bench on Hershel’s terrace - Daryl sitting up with his feet on a small stool, Rick lying on the seat, his head cushioned by Daryl’s thigh.   
“It’s so… _peaceful_ in here,” Rick said with a sigh, staring ahead. There was a spacious garden in front of them, a small fountain to their left and a fenced-off area to their right, no doubt used to get the animals some controlled rehab.

“I shouldn’t have taken him,” Rick muttered finally, closing his eyes slowly.   
“Ya heard what Hershel said… he’s gonna be fine,” Daryl reminded him, his fingers never pausing their gentle combing. “Besides, I think ya saved ‘im… when ya jumped that Philip fucker.”   
“I shouldn’t have let him grab that shotgun in the first place.” Rick shook his head minutely.   
“Nobody knew it was there, Rick.”

Daryl wanted to say something more, but he was cut off by Rick’s cell phone ringing. Rick picked it up, his head still on Daryl’s leg.   
“Sir?” He said, answering the call. “Yeah, we’re fine. No, Shane’s gonna be okay… The shot caught him in the leg… Yes, sir. Yes. No I haven’t… Are they alright? Oh… Thank you, sir. Do we have to go up there? Oh, alright. Thank you. You too, sir.”

“Huh?” Daryl asked eloquently when Rick hung up.   
“I get that week off, after all,” Rick smiled slightly. “And the captain had some news about the girls and that bastard… apparently he’s a nutcase.”   
“He hurt ‘em?” Daryl bristled immediately, tension creeping up his whole body. Rick shook his head quickly, turning around a bit to look up at him.   
“No, no… nothing like that. Apparently he had a daughter once… she died, some kind of disease… anyway, he went nuts after that, seeing his daughter in every girl on the street. It seems like he started to kidnap them to make them into his daughter’s stand-ins…”   
_“Jesus,”_ Daryl huffed out. “That guy’s mental.”   
“Yeah. Didn’t hurt them, though. Dressed them up as his daughter and had tea with them, like some twisted version of a kid’s play… Anyway, they have him in custody. I have to write a report on that, and you will have to give a testimony.”   
“Yeah, no problem,” Daryl nodded. _He would testify, alright._ Whatever would help to put that guy away in whichever hole the system had designed for the likes of him.

“Rick?” Hershel appeared out of nowhere, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand and looking at them with a slight smile.   
“Yeah?” Rick sat up immediately, turning around to face him. “He’s awake?”   
“Yes, he’s starting to come to. You can see him, if you want.”

 

-&-

 

“Well, he’s still high as fuck, that’s fer sure,” Daryl commented, standing in the doorway and staring at Shane. Rick only nodded, coming closer, smiling when the dog noticed him.

Shane was definitely a bit under still - his eyes had that surprised look, his mouth was mostly closed, but his long tongue was hanging out on the side of it, flopping around with every turn of his head. He was lying on a blanket on the ground, his left hind leg bandaged completely, along with a better part of his hip.

Rick kneeled down in front of him.   
“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, and Shane perked up, his tongue wiggling at the side of his mouth.

RICK! THERE’S TWO OF YOU! AM I IN HEAVEN? CAN I GET DOUBLE PATS FROM BOTH OF YOU? RICK... AND RICK.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Rick went on, brushing his fingers through the fluffy fur behind Shane’s ears. The dog whined quietly, then did his best to push up into Rick’s hand.

RICK! SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY LEG! SOMETHING’S STUCK TO IT!

Rick huffed out a quiet laugh when he saw Shane trying to wiggle out of the bandage.   
“Don’t, Shane,” he said in a serious voice, but Daryl could hear the relief in it. He stepped closer, kneeling down and giving Shane a few delicate pats... and a small rub, too.

DARYL! THERE’S TWO OF YOU, TOO! RICK! WE’RE IN HEAVEN! LOOK!!!

When Shane started to try and get up a bit too quickly, with his tail picking up it’s excited swooshing motion, Hershel took them both out, leaving the dog in the room.   
“I think you should go and get some rest, Rick,” he stated with that fatherly concern of his, looking very worried when he took Rick in. Daryl nodded in agreement, one hand sneaking to Rick’s elbow and squeezing it when Rick tried to protest.   
“Ya look half dead. Hershel’s right. Come on.”

They called for a taxi and went back home, planning on coming to see Shane on the next day.

 

-&-

 

The days went on and Shane got better with time. Three days later, he was back home, his bandaged leg getting back to normal. He had a healthy appetite and was starting to walk around again without bigger troubles, so Daryl and Rick thought up a _welcome home_ party for him, that took place on the upcoming weekend.  

Well, _party…_ It was just a barbecue, really, with some guests invited - Carol and Sophia were there, with Daryl greeting them warmly and introducing them both to Rick and Shane. Michonne came with her wife, Andrea, and Tyreese brought Sasha, his sister. They all had a great time, chatting and laughing, knowing fully well that Shane’s rapid recovery and his heroic deed was just a nice excuse to kick back and relax with friends.

It was only late in the evening, when their guests were gone, that Daryl and Rick had some time to themselves. They were done putting away the freshly washed dishes and had just relocated to Rick’s bedroom, where they plopped down on the bed in a loose embrace.   
“Sophia’s nice,” Rick commented, stretching on his back. Daryl nodded.   
“Yeah, she is… She and Carol… they’ve been through a lot.”   
“I can imagine. You’ve told me about that bastard… what was his name? Ed?”   
“Yeah. He was a right fucker.” Daryl nodded again, then closed his eyes with a sigh, relaxing into the soft mattress of Rick’s bed. It was so comfortable, Daryl thought he could stay there forever.

That made him pause. He liked Rick… _probably a little bit too much._ And, if he was to be honest with himself, Daryl knew deep down that he was falling for the man, and falling fast. There was something about Rick that put him at ease. Of course, Rick was a charming guy, _a good guy,_ but it wasn’t only that - there were feelings of being _at home_ whenever they were together that were on Daryl’s mind. It was strange, Daryl had never had that before. He had never believed he _would._ And yet, lying in Rick’s bed, in his _arms,_ there was no place he would rather be.

“What are you thinking about?” Rick asked quietly, and Daryl frowned.   
“How do ya know ‘m thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’?” He mumbled out, trying to sound casual, even if Rick’s question freaked him out a bit. He wasn’t sure how Rick would react to the images his mind provided - images of the two of them living together with Shane, _happily ever after_ and all that romantic bullshit he usually didn’t believe in.   
“You’re lying still like you don’t want me to hear your thoughts,” Rick explained, shrugging. Daryl sighed.   
“‘S just… Was thinkin’ bout you and Shane…”   
“Oh? What about us?” Rick piped up, propping himself up on one arm and looking at him. Daryl could feel his gaze slipping over his face, from his closed eyes to his mouth. He licked his lips, then looked at Rick barvely.   
“I like ya,” he whispered, swallowing heavily. _“A lot.”_

He hoped Rick would get the message. He was never one to be overly dramatic or emotional, so talking openly about his feelings was completely alien to him. But, Daryl had a hunch that it was worth trying with Rick… _especially_ when Rick looked at him like he was doing right now, warmth radiating from his blue, sparkling eyes.

_It was even better when Rick dove in and caught Daryl’s lips in a soft kiss._

“It’s good,” he murmured right into Daryl’s mouth, “because I like you, too. _A lot.”_ And he went on kissing Daryl, his hand finding its way under the hem of the sleeveless button-up Daryl was wearing. Rick’s fingers seemed a bit cold in comparison to Daryl’s warm skin, but they heated up quickly when Rick rubbed them up and down his side, scraping his nails delicately over Daryl’s ribs. He broke apart only after Daryl’s body arched up beneath his hand, a small hissing moan slipping out of him.

“We should close the door…” Rick mumbled with a smile, looking at him imploringly. Daryl huffed out a laugh.   
“Ya think he’s gonna come ‘ere even with his leg still hurtin’?”   
“Don’t wanna risk it… I ain’t sharing you,” Rick murmured, pushing his face into the crook of Daryl’s neck and kissing a delicate spot he knew was there. A shiver ran through Daryl’s frame, one that Rick could actually feel, and he smiled, pressing his lips to the skin again, licking it for good measure. It was a bit salty, smelled like heaven, and was so _soft_ Rick could just happily keep himself entertained with it for the rest of the evening. He was ready to open his mouth and bite the spot gently, one hand sneaking up higher on Daryl’s chest to hold him closer, when there was a bark coming from behind them.

With a groan, Rick pulled away, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, seeing a very excited Shane sitting in the entrance.

CUDDLE TIME? RICK, IS IT CUDDLE TIME? COUNT ME IN!

“Told you.” Rick snorted, then turned around, intent on getting up and drawing Shane away.   
“Wait,” Daryl said, then rolled out of bed. He moved through the room until he located his backpack, then dug one hand inside. As Rick watched, Daryl pulled out another dog toy.

Rick gasped.

It was blue this time, as long as Rick’s forearm, lean and ridged, a bit wider at the ends and tapering off into dull points.

_This one looked like a fucking dildo, too._

Rick swallowed heavily, his gaze flickering to Daryl, eyes wide.   
“Sorry,” Daryl shrugged, looking at him and biting his lip for a moment, suddenly reminded about Shane’s near-miss during the action. “Thought I’d get ‘im somethin’ new to play with… in case he was too insistent on sleepin’ with us…” Daryl paused, looking thoughtfully at Rick. “Not sure ‘t was such a good idea, now… ya think it’s too soon after what happened?” He asked, frowning when Rick just sat there, staring at the toy.

When he finally answered, Rick’s voice was raspy and deep. He felt dizzy with the images his mind provided, eyes still glued to the piece of rubber Daryl was holding.   
“No - I…. Fine… you. _What?”_ Rick shook his head, then dragged a hand down his face, groaning when he felt his cheeks burning brightly. He plopped down on the bed again, rolled around and pressed his head into the pillow until his airflow was almost cut off. There was silence in the room, before Daryl moved, his footsteps quiet on the carpeted floor. Shane yipped and barked happily, there was the noise of paws hitting the tiles in the corridor, and the door closed.

A rustle of clothes, a drawer being pulled open.

“Knew ya wanted to play with tha’ thing,” Daryl said, voice like a low growl. The sound of it washed over Rick and trickled down his spine, the implication of Daryl’s words making him feel too hot inside his clothes. If it were possible, Rick could have sworn that even his toes were blushing right now.   
“It’s stupid…” he mumbled, face still smashed against the pillow. Daryl barked out a laugh behind him, then tugged at his shoulder, until Rick turned around and looked at him.   
“‘S not stupid… kinda hot, actually,” Daryl murmured, shrugging, then attacked Rick’s lips in a fiery kiss. Rick was ready to protest - _who the hell considered being fucked with a dog toy hot?_ \- when Daryl moved, climbing over him and straddling Rick’s thighs. He settled with his knees around Rick’s hips, squeezing them and grinding _down,_ and _oh fuck…_

Daryl was definitely on board with that idea. His cock was hard and hot, a sizeable bulge pressing against Rick’s through the denim of their pants, rutting into his body with a single-minded intent of getting off that melted Rick’s resolve. He moaned, surprised, and Daryl used the occasion to slip his tongue inside Rick’s mouth, licking deep, stroking it against Rick’s own. Daryl’s fingers found their way to the hem of Rick’s shirt and started to unbutton it, and Rick didn’t know what to do for a moment, not really keen on disturbing Daryl’s plan, needing to feel the man, too. His hands hovered over Daryl’s back for a moment, before Rick finally settled on dragging one up Daryl’s spine, until he reached the nape of his neck. The other traveled down, its goal Daryl’s ass, but something hard bumped against Rick’s elbow and he frowned, breaking the kiss and looking down.

It was the dog toy, lying right next to his side. Biting his lip hard, Rick wrapped his fingers around it, then moaned at the girth. _It was big, but not too big…_ a few minutes of Daryl’s skilled hands would probably make it possible to slide it inside his ass…

Rick froze when Daryl drew in a sharp breath above him. He raised his eyes up, meeting Daryl’s fiery gaze, something dark and heated glinting in those stormy blues Rick knew so well by now. Daryl’s eyes skittered to the side, taking in Rick’s fist encasing the toy, before they focused back on Rick. There was so much naked _want_ in Daryl’s gaze, that Rick almost choked on his own saliva. When Daryl popped the last button of his shirt open, all rational thought flew Rick’s mind in a rush.

It was a good thing that nobody wanted him to recall what happened next, because Rick wouldn’t be able to tell how they both ended up completely undressed, with him on his back and Daryl wedged between his open thighs, two fingers pushed deep within his ass. Daryl had said something about how he had washed the toy before he had brought it here, something about it being dusty and him wanting it clean for Shane… Rick didn’t really care, _he couldn’t concentrate on words anyway._ The toy was heavy in his palm, gripped tight between his clenched fingers, and Daryl was slowly, methodically opening him up.

A few slow slides of Daryl’s fingers, then a faster shove, a wicked curl up that had Rick seeing stars, and back to slow gliding through the mess of lube at his opening. _Rick was slowly losing his goddamn mind._ It wasn’t enough, even if his body jerked from time to time with a keening little noise, torn between bucking away from Daryl’s fingers and impaling itself on them again, just to feel electricity got through its very core.

Before Rick could start complaining or pleading, though, Daryl pulled out his fingers - three… _when had they become three?_ \- and drew back a bit. He leaned over Rick, reaching into the drawer again, giving Rick a chaste kiss when their lips were close together for a moment. A second later, with a tiny flick of his tongue, Daryl was gone, sitting up between Rick’s thighs, holding a small packet between his fingers. He showed it to Rick, a hesitant question evident in his lust-filled eyes, and Rick nodded, wondering briefly how was it possible that someone with such a strong air of post-apocalyptic survival about him would even consider condoms right now, knowing that they were both clean.

_Then again, Daryl was getting ready to fuck him with a goddamn dog toy, maybe their survival instincts had taken a leave of absence, after all…_

He watched, fascinated, as Daryl took the toy from him, the blue rubber in stark contrast to Daryl’s tanned skin. Within a moment, the condom was pulled over the length of it and, with a splash of lube that dribbled over the tip, Daryl brought it to his ass, the blunt end of it nudging his entrance. Rick tensed up a bit - despite his body positively vibrating in anticipation, he felt a bit nervous feeling the size of the toy pressing against his opening. Daryl must have seen it, because he paused and shuffled closer. He threw one of his legs over Rick’s thigh, almost straddling it. The position allowed him to hover over Rick’s chest and lean in to kiss him deeply, while still providing him with an easy access to the most important bits.

“Ya sure?” Daryl asked, the question whispered against Rick’s mouth. He got a nod in return, a small, breathy “yeah” that escaped Rick like an afterthought, and he kissed him again, just because he could. A moment later, the tip of the toy was nudging at his entrance, rubbing up and down, spreading the lube around. Rick opened his mouth to say something else, maybe to murmur Daryl’s name, but whatever was supposed to come out of his mouth turned into a strained groan when Daryl pushed and the toy slid inside.   
_“Fuck,”_ Rick huffed out, staring wide-eyed up at Daryl, biting his lip when another inch found its way into his ass.

 _Jesus,_ it was _big._ Rick didn’t really know what to do with himself, other than lie back and take it, fisting his hands in the sheets. The toy pressed in all the right places and his brain went offline quickly, his back arching when it brushed against his prostate and lit up his spine. Daryl was still above him, leaning over Rick and muttering something, but Rick couldn’t focus on the words - he was so _full_ his body didn’t know how to deal with it. It didn’t hurt, even if the initial breach burned a little, and the lube more than made up for his own nerves making him tighten up a bit… at least until Daryl pulled it out slowly, then slid it back home at the same lazy pace.

The room fell quiet around them, filled only with their heavy pants and obscene, squelchy noises, and Rick still wasn’t sure about what to do with his hands, other than clench them uselessly in the bedding, so he pried his fingers away one by one, then threw both arms around Daryl’s chest, sliding his palms up until he could grip Daryl’s hair.   
“Fuck, _Rick…”_ Daryl growled, _actually growled,_ then dove down for a heated kiss that was more teeth than lips, his rhythm getting a bit faster. The way he drove the toy into his ass made Rick’s insides turn to molten lava, pleasure spreading through him with the speed of a wildfire. He groaned again, then moaned breathily when Daryl changed the angle a bit, experimenting until he had Rick shaking under him, nonsensical noises escaping him with every exhale.

A string of “yes… Daryl, fuck… yes… faster… oh god…” was mumbled right into his mouth, and Daryl felt a shiver racing through his own body, pooling like liquid heat at the base of his spine. He was leaking just as much as Rick was, the precome dripping from his cock and onto Rick’s thigh… it would be _so easy_ to just grind down and hump Rick’s leg into oblivion… _Not yet, though._ With sudden clarity, Daryl realized that he desperately wanted to see Rick come all over himself, to see him shudder and twitch, shoot all over his stomach until there was nothing left to give. He increased the speed of his movements, pleased when Rick’s body finally gave in to the sensations and relaxed completely, legs falling open as wide as they could.

Rick got more vocal with every shove of the toy, and soon, Daryl’s ears were filled with filthy moans and deep groans, the noises sounding almost punched out of Rick. He ducked his head and pressed his mouth to Rick’s neck, licking up until he could whisper into his ear. He wasn’t good at dirty talk, never had been, but something in Rick - his whole frame shaking with pleasure and his eyes squeezed shut, a blissful expression on his face - was truly inspiring on that evening.   
“C’mon,” Daryl rasped, low and scratchy. “Gonna come, Rick? Gonna scream?” He finished his question with a nibble on the shell of Rick’s ear, giving it a long lick afterwards.

Rick tensed all over, his fingers tugging at Daryl’s hair almost painfully tight, before he arched back, shoulders digging into the pillows he was lying on. He came with a keening whine that was loud enough to throw Shane into a barking fit on the other side of the door, but Daryl doubted that Rick could even hear him right now. His muscles twitched then relaxed, only to clench up again, as Daryl fucked him through it, sliding the toy in and out a couple of times. He peeked down, face still tucked against Rick’s neck, then grinned when he spotted Rick’s cock releasing one more, tiny trickle of come. It joined the mess on Rick’s stomach and pooled there, and Daryl bit his lip thinking about licking it off of Rick’s hot skin.

He took the toy out only when Rick’s next groan was laced with displeasure, his body trying to jerk away from too much sensations. Daryl threw it carelessly to the floor, then plunged his tongue into Rick’s slack mouth, robbing him of whatever air he had managed to gulp in. The kiss was sloppy and uncoordinated, and it only fueled Daryl’s arousal. The sole idea of what he had just done was enough to bring him right up to the edge, but with Rick’s soft lips sliding against his messily, with Rick’s hands sliding from his hair only to hitch right back and fist there, Daryl didn’t really need much. He lowered his hips, trapping his neglected cock against Rick’s hipbone, and with a few thrusts, he was coming, too.

He only had enough brainpower not to collapse right on top of Rick, and landed on his side right next to him, curling against Rick’s sweaty chest and trying to bring his suddenly wild breathing back under control. Daryl wasn’t sure how long they were lying like this, but his hands had slowly regained some functionality, so he started to rub them up and down Rick’s side, humming in satisfaction when he felt Rick’s own fingers skittered down his spine.

_The sound of wood splintering tore them apart._

“What the…” Daryl mumbled, jumping and turning around, staring at the door that was still closed. Rick sat up, then groaned and plopped back down with a wince, and Daryl scoffed. _Yeah, that toy was rather big…_   
“Shane?” Rick asked weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Daryl shrugged.   
“The fuck if I know!” He heaved himself up and went to the door, picking up the toy on his way there. He took the condom off it and threw it into the bin Rick had in the corner of the room, then put the toy on the dresser. Stepping quietly, he moved to the door and opened it.

Shane was sitting on the other side of it, a piece of wood held tightly between his teeth. Daryl frowned, then his eyes widened when he recognized the color. He let his gaze travel to the door frame and sure enough, there was a big chunk of it missing.

DARYL! FINALLY! I WAS WORRIED! ARE YOU OKAY? IS RICK OKAY? DARYL I COULDN’T GET IN!!!

“Shane is fucked up, Rick,” Daryl said, scowling at the dog. He didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or scold him, so instead he just banged the door shut in Shane’s face and went back to Rick.   
“What happened? Is he okay?” Rick asked groggily, turning to lie on his side, facing Daryl when he stretched next to him.   
“Oh he’s fine… yer _door_ isn’t.”   
_“What?”_   
“Shane’s…” Daryl sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Shane’s got a piece of yer door frame in his mouth,” he explained, glancing at Rick briefly, before he snuggled into the pillow and closed his eyes again. Rick was silent for a long moment, processing the information.

“Shane’s… _what?!”_

 

-&-

 

In the end, they deemed the door frame an unnecessary repair. They sold the house about three months later and moved into Daryl’s cabin - they both had means of transport and the distance from the center of their town wasn’t a big problem. Shane was happy there, too - he got a huge garden to run around to his heart’s content. Daryl had even put up a fencing around it so he wouldn’t run off chasing after a rabbit.

“We got any plans for the weekend?” Daryl asked, craning his neck to look at Rick. He was holding a nail to the wall, a hammer in his other hand, and Rick frowned thoughtfully, staring at him. “Like that?”   
“A bit to the right,” Rick answered, picking up his beer bottle and taking a sip. “And no, we don’t have anything. Why?”   
“There’s a rally,” Daryl gruffed out, hitting the nail a few times, smirking satisfied when it went in smoothly. He turned around and picked up the framed picture, then hanged it on the wall, taking a couple of steps back to look at it from a distance.   
“A rally?” Rick asked, sitting up from his half-sprawl on the couch.   
“Uh… yeah. Lots of motorcycles and crazy riders… Jesus gave me the heads-up. There’s supposed to be a fair and whatnot.”   
“You wanna go?” Rick’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

Daryl bit his lip, then nodded, sitting down next to him. He frowned, then adjusted the pillow behind his back - Rick’s pillow, the one Shane had torn apart so many months ago. Daryl had stitched it back together on one rainy afternoon, closing the tear with thread shining gold. It had been lying on the couch every since, ending up under him or Rick more often than not.

“I thought you didn’t like fairs and _shitloads of stupid people,”_ Rick said, making quotation marks with his fingers, reminding Daryl his own words. Daryl shrugged - he knew that Rick loved this kind of entertainment.   
“Wouldn’t be so bad with ya,” he muttered, taking Rick’s beer and gulping down half of it. Rick eyed him, then nodded.   
“Okay, we’ll go.”   
“Really?”   
“Yeah. You want to… and you know that I’ll never pass an opportunity to ride on that monster of yours…” Rick grinned, inclining his head to the window, behind which Daryl’s bike was parked. He licked his lips suggestively for good measure. Daryl smirked.   
“Ya sure ya mean my bike?”

Rick shut him up with a kiss.   
“Come on,” he mumbled when they parted a few moments later. “Let’s make a lit of things to pack.”   
“Can we _not_ pack Shane?” Daryl asked, and Rick grinned.   
“After our last hunting trip? He’s staying home. Carol can come and babysit.”   
“Sophia’s gonna be more than happy,” Daryl agreed.   
“Maybe she’s gonna start drawing dogs instead of unicorns?” Rick mused, looking at the newest picture on their wall.   
“What?” Daryl asked, feigning offense. “Ya say unicorns are too gay fer ya?”   
“Nah… they’re okay. And she’s pretty talented…”   
“But?”   
“Those horns make me think of _other pointy things…”_ Rick smiled widely, then dove in to kiss his lover. Daryl laughed, pulling him in.

They both knew that the new set of professional crayons they had bought Sophia for her upcoming birthday would be used for unicorns mostly. And if they bought a couple of matching unicorn keychains made of leather on the fair, and attached them to their sets of keys… well, who could judge them? They still kept it within some rational limits - Shane only had one unicorn plushie, and it had been given to him by Sophia herself.


End file.
